


Hiraeth

by GrumpyOldElf



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: 1.1 Storyline, Angst and Feels, Connected Drabbles, F/M, Rated E for later chapters, Rating May Change, Ratings Have Changed, Self-indulgent fluff, Shane is bad with words and feelings and taking care of himself., Smut is in Chapter 15 you sinners. Not judging., Suicide Mention/Suicide Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-06-05 16:53:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 26,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6713173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpyOldElf/pseuds/GrumpyOldElf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(n.) A homesickness for a home to which you cannot return or a home which maybe never was.<br/>What if home is a person you haven't met yet?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rituals

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for nothing. Ratings may change in later chapters. Mostly from Shane's POV.

Shane considered himself many things. A less than stellar human being, a failure, a burgeoning alcoholic. A fan of chickens and livestock - though he wouldn't reveal that without a good reason. He was sure people would tack other labels onto him due to his sunny personality and current employment, even if they were too polite to say it to his face. The one label he wouldn't apply to himself would be superstitious. Black cats, broken mirrors, cracks in the sidewalk - none of that bothered him. Even little rituals that came along with special days didn't mean much unless is applied to Jas or his aunt.

So when the new farmer, Liz, had started smiling and saying good afternoon or good morning when she saw him walking by, he brushed it off with his usual brusqueness. What was good about the morning? Another day at Jojo mart stocking shelves till his knees and back screamed. What was good about the afternoon? Just another evening of dulling the ache with the bottom of a glass, unsure if it was really his knees or something deeper.

It was only when the small rituals didn't happen that Shane noted them. It was a crisp fall morning, wind cutting through the threadbare hoodie as he trudged into work. The past week, Liz had been near Pierre’s. Checking the board or gathering supplies - he never knew. He didn't ask. He just accepted the fact that she was there - like that the sun was in the sky or that the ocean was wet. But Liz wasn't there. At first he figured that she was running late with farm work or had gotten caught up with something. He'd see her in the afternoon. But he didn't and his knees felt even more sore than he remembered them being when he'd left, slowing him to a shuffle as he made his way to Gus’s.

It went on like that for the rest of the week and each day he missed it a little more. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, least of all himself. But it had meant something to him that she had cared enough to take the time to smile at him and talk to him - to acknowledge him - even if he could have been nicer about it. His work didn't suffer for it. He wouldn't let Jas down like that. But the boxes seemed heavier, his back sorer by the end of each day. The beer was doing nothing to dull that nagging ache in his ribs that had been growing all week. He glanced towards the spot that she had been at earlier in the week with a dim hope. But she wasn't there

_Probably finally had it with being brushed off,_ some little black part of him whispered. _Deserve it. Why would anyone want to talk to you anyways?_ Shoving his hands farther into his pockets he continued on towards the saloon to silence the voices. He'd taken his time getting back to town on the off chance that Liz would be around. The sun was already set and the few street lights were flickering on. The familiar creak of the door welcomed him and a laugh surprised him. His head snapped up, throat tightening for some reason - had to be the change in temperature.

Liz was perched on her regular stool, unwinding a scarf as she leaned over and talked to Gus In animated tones. Her cheeks were pink from the wind and her dark hair - always wild to begin with - was sticking out at odds from the hat and the wind’s hand. She turned around at the sound of the door opening. And just smiled at him.

“Shane! How've you been? Sorry I haven't seen you in town recently - have been working on clearing land for a coop.”

How dare her smile warm him like a cozy fire. He ignored the heat that came to his cheeks, blaming it again on the change in temperature between indoors and outdoors. He tried to manage a shrug, as if it didn't matter if he saw her or not.

“Didn't even notice,” he mumbled, the words tasting bitter the moment they passed his lips. He nodded to Gus, taking the mug and trying to ignore the brief flash of regret that dulled Liz’s smile and the knowing look Gus gave him. With a nod, he went to his usual spot, leaning against the wall and taking a long drink, knowing deep down that the tension that had lifted from his shoulders had nothing to do with the drink.


	2. Overindulge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shane's bad with words. Bless his heart.

Sometimes, Shane thought he knew his limits. On many things - how long he could work, the least amount of sleep he could get, the most he could drink. But sometimes life threw all these variables together, leading him to where he was now. Which was attempting to take a wobbly path back from the saloon to his aunt’s farm without ending up in someone’s flowerbeds. The rain hadn't let up - fine, he was used to this level of misery. Being soaked through to the bone, groggy from too many drinks and too little sleep. He'd make it back. He somehow always did.

“...are you okay?”

His mid step pause would have been almost comical if it wasn't for the fact that he almost slammed into a fence. Cursing, he turned to see Liz watching him cautiously.

“I didn't think anyone else would be out this late,” she said simply with a little grin. He noticed the canvas sack at her side, mining pick catching the street lamp’s glow. A rain poncho covered her to the knees.

“Why are you even out this late,” he grumbled, the cold and the drinks slurring his words faintly.  _ Oh great,  _ some future sober part of his mind thought.  _ I get to sound like a drunken fool in front of her _ .

“I lost track of time - broke my watch in the mines.” She looked sheepish, shifting her weight back and forth on her feet. “...but, really. Are you okay? You're soaked through.”

“I'm fi-” He ruined it with a sneeze that sent him off balance and slammed his face into the post of the nearby fence. Stars and heat bloomed from the blow, followed quickly by pain. He clutched his nose, cursing and fighting back a wave of nausea. Warmth spilled into his hand and the smell of his own blood filled the air.

“Let me see.” He'd almost forgotten she was there. Or maybe he'd hoped she’d disappear.

Her fingers - warm and gentle- pressed lightly on his hand. He jerked away with almost a growl.

“M’ fine,” he mumbled, voice muffled by his hands.

“You slammed your face into a post and your dripping blood through your hand onto your jacket.”

“So?!”

“So it's possible you've broke your nose or at the very least bruised it,” she said patiently.

“I'll be fine,” he mumbled again, taking his hand off his nose experimentally. Oh Yoba, even through the haze of drinks it hurt.

“At least let me help you get it cleaned up - you can cut through the south part of the farm to get home.”

“I'm not some charity case, you know,” he mumbled.

“I know. I'm just trying to be nice,” she said, voice holding a double edge of hurt and confusion.

“Why? I’ve told you plenty of times to leave me alone. Why won’t you just leave me alone?! Take the hint!”

He hadn't realized he'd started yelling until he saw her face fall and her shoulders droop. She looked like a kicked puppy wrapped in a bright yellow poncho. Oh Yoba…he was an asshole.

“Because I know how hard it is to go from city to this, because I've worked shitty dead end retail jobs for shitty hours and shitty pay, because I know what it’s like to be terrified of how I’m going to pay my bills, because I've been the grumpy asshole that pushed everyone away because I thought I didn't need anyone but myself.” She sighed and shook her head, hoisting the canvas bag back to her shoulder. “But if that's what you want. Good night, Shane. Be safe.”

And she walked away. And he couldn't think up a single damn thing to say to stop her, couldn't reach out an arm to grab her's. He could only watch her with the sensation of something trying to claw from his middle to go to her. To stop her. To follow her. Hoping that she’d turn around and see in his eyes the same thing that was trying to claw out of his middle.

He didn't sleep that night and his face was bruised by the morning.


	3. Tender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set directly after Overindulge (Chapter 2).

Yoba, his whole body was sore. Not just from work. From the cold he'd caught from walking in the rain, from the pisspoor sleep he'd been getting. But he only had himself to blame - he’d started getting up earlier the past few days to avoid Liz, the shame of what he'd done burning bright still.

Which was why he was shocked to see her waiting on a bench with a book in hand, jacket collar pulled up against the fall breeze.  What the hell? He'd taken the long way, he'd even left later. She'd never been in the city during this time of day before. As if she could hear his thoughts, she looked up at him directly. A little grimace pulled her lips down - likely in reaction to the bruise that was still bold as ever on his face.

“...you look horrible, Shane,” she said, closing her book and standing up. She touched the bridge of his nose where the bruises were darkest, not noticing when he flinched back slightly. In spite of the cool weather, her fingers were warm.  “Have you had Harvey make sure it's not broken?”

“Closed early - he's never open when I'm off work,” he mumbled, voice hoarse. Oh, he knew that he could ask Harvey off the clock but he’d just been trying to go home and sleep, to catch up on the lost hours spent looking at the ceiling. He didn't even bother trying to stop her fingers, only hissing faintly when she pressed on a sore spot.

“Let me help you,” she said. “I've got some cream that is good for pain. Is good for the first planting after a long winter of not having to till.”

“Why do you always want to help people,” he wondered.

“Because sometimes they won't help themselves,” she answered. She turned and headed back towards her farm, not waiting to see if he’d follow. But follow he did, watching as some of the tension and stiffness eased from her stride as his fell into pace behind her. She even slowed down a little bit as he didn’t keep up with her marching band pace. He didn’t realize he was on her farm until he almost plowed into her back. She turned and looked up slightly, pointing to the porch.

“Sit, I’ll be right back out,” she said simply before going inside, screen door closing behind her. And so, with nothing else to do but begrudgingly listen, Shane sat. It shouldn’t have felt that amazing to sit, but it did. He leaned forward slightly, resting his forehead in his hands as he waited for Liz to return. The last bit of sunlight on him felt amazing. Yoba, he must be sick, he was getting all happy about sunlight.

He had to admit it, the little farmer was doing good by her grandfather. Neat rows of plots, healthy looking sprouts and plants. Saplings were carefully spaced in the distance with plenty of room between them to age and spread their branches. He could hear the sleepy clucking of chickens from his spot and the lazy hum of bees around a patch of wildflowers. Even his jaded eyes could see the love that went into this place, the work and the effort.

“Found it.”

The voice came from behind him, making him jump. Shane hadn’t heard the door open again but Liz had stepped back out, jacket shed and sweater in its place. In her hands was a small glass jar with a seafoam green looking cream. She stepped around to stand in front of him, giving a little awkward smile as she looked down at him.

“It’s mostly for sore muscles but it should at least help a little,” she said, dipping her fingers in it and looking at him for permission.

“Can’t make it any worse,” he grumbled with a little nod. The cream was biting cold at first, enough to make him curse and pull back. Liz simply adjusted, smoothing it over his bruises as gently as she could. The cold didn’t fade so much as became more tolerable and almost pleasant against his skin and against the soreness of the bruises. He sighed faintly as Liz’s hand traveled up to his forehead with a curious look.

“...you’re burning up,” she said quietly, furrowing her brows at him. “Shane, you should go home and get some rest. Call in tomorrow and try to get better.”

“Can’t call in, will get fired,” he mumbled. He was warm? Even with the hoodie and the last warmth of the sunshine he was chilled. What was she going on about?

“Then I’ll hire you on as help, you can’t just work yourself into the ground. Jas needs you.”

He looked at her oddly. “You couldn’t pay me...am a horrible farmer anyways.”

“Could look after the chickens.”

He made a faint shrugging motion, sitting there with her hand on his forehead. He needed to get up, needed to get back home. A few hours of sleep and he’d be fine - he always was. Or he faked it til he was. But even just the short time sitting here, his legs felt like lead and his arms were weighed down into his lap. He was so tired. He’d just sit here a few more minutes before he went back to his room. Even though it was getting dark, it was just a little cut through the south.  
  
“I should go,” Shane muttered, trying to push himself up. As he did, the whole world seemed to shift sideways and black closed in around the edges. He felt himself stumble back against the porch, trying to grab whatever part of it he could. Liz’s face was above him, horrified as she reached out to steady him as the world went black.


	4. Breathing Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set directly after Tender (Chapter 3).

Shane woke with a sudden jerk, like he’d been dropped. He was breathing like he’d run a marathon or been running from something that he couldn’t remember. The rapid breathing lead to coughing which slowly brought around memories of what had happened.

Oh… oh shit.

He pressed his palm against his face, trying to slow his breathing. How did he get back to his room? What time was it? Oh Yoba, what time was it? The sun beating against the pulled curtains was enough to make him realize that it was well past nine, well past when he was supposed to be on the clock. He may hate the job but it was the one productive thing he did - helping pay for things on the farm, things for Jas. Coughing some more, he pushed himself to unsteady feet, realizing that he was in his ratty undershirt and boxers. Some distant part of him hoped that Liz hadn’t seen him like this. How had he ended up here? The last thing he remembered was the world going black on her porch.

He stumbled into the kitchen, squinting at the brighter light. Marnie looked up from her spot at the table with a little quick intake of breath.

“You shouldn’t be up - Harvey said you should get some rest,” she said, closing a ledger she had been looking at. She motioned him quickly towards the table as she got up - which sounded like a splendid idea because he was already regretting standing up. “You passed out and we had to drag you here.”

“We?” he asked, his voice hoarse as he sat down. “...how long have I been out?” He muttered a thank you as his aunt put a glass of water and a few pills in front of him, just realizing how thirsty he was. He took a long drink before taking a few smaller ones to down the pills as well.

“Liz went and dragged you into her house at least before going to find Harvey and I. Between the three of us we got you back here - poor girl looked like she’d seen a ghost,” Marnie said. “Harvey says you have a bad cold is likely all, but coupled with you working yourself into the ground-”

“I need to go check in,” he mumbled, hating himself the second the words left his mouth. He hated that job but it had him by the short hairs.

“No, you don’t.”

Shane looked up, raising his eyebrow and ruining his curious look by having another coughing fit. “Why not?” he asked as soon as he was able, taking another drink to soothe his throat.

“Because Liz marched herself up there and tore Morris a new one. Apparently, she was a manager back at some Jojo store in the city before she came out here, read him a riot act. I thought she was going to strangle the man,” Marnie replied with an almost proud smile as she spoke. “The girl’s a spitfire.”

“...you sure it was Liz?” he asked, never remembering seeing her mad or even more than mildly annoyed. Hell, he’d yelled at her in anger and all she’d done was look disappointed. Why would she get mad? It wasn’t like she worked there.

“Oh, it was her alright. Tore him up about all kinds of violations and irregularities in his store based of what the model of the store should be. It was kind of impressive to see.”

Shane just gave a noncommittal ‘huh’ as he took a few more sips of his water and tried to imagine the usually calm farmer going on a tirade. “Jas…?”

“Spent the night over at Vincent’s - slumber party. She was still out when Liz came and found us so Jodi said she didn’t mind it. She’ll be back later this afternoon.” Shane nodded and fell silent again, fingertips toying the condensation on the glass. Marnie finally spoke up again, reaching over and patting him on the shoulder as she stood up again. “Get some rest. You’ve got the rest of the day off as well as the weekend thanks to Liz - paid, mind you. Use it to get some rest and get better.” He gave a weak nod, not realizing how truly tired he was. Paid? What kind of bargain had she made to get that? Yoba, the thought of what she’d done for him. He hated owing people.

He pushed himself up, refilling his glass to take with him. “Sorry if I worried you,” he muttered to his aunt, looking over his shoulder. She gave him a weak smile.

“Just take better care of yourself, hon,” she said equally quiet. “You’re just as important as everyone else here.” 

He nodded in response to her - didn’t believe a single word of it but wasn’t going to argue with the woman. Not today. He closed his door behind him as he walked back into his room, set the glass of water on his nightstand and all but collapsed onto his bed, dragging his blanket back over himself. He tried to fall asleep, but he couldn’t. Even though he was exhausted, his thoughts would bring him back around as soon as he was within fingertips of sleep.  

Embarrassment that he’d inconvenienced so many people, that he’d been seen so in such a weak state - especially by Liz for some reason - gnawed at him. He coughed, pulling the blanket tighter around him as he shivered faintly. He hated being sick, hated feeling cold. Hated that he was this weak. Tears of frustration pricked at his eyes and he hated those as well, scrubbing his face. But they didn’t stop. He growled at himself, burying his face into his pillow. Tears streaming down his face for not damn good reason, he finally fell asleep.

He woke up some time later, slower this time, like walking out of a fog. He could hear his aunt’s voice and another’s - Yoba, not her. Anyone but her. She couldn't see him like this. He didn’t move, too sore, too stiff to. But he listened to their muffled voices, the cracked door casting a thin strip of light across the floor (his aunt must have checked on him). Outside, it was almost full dark.

“How’s he doing?” he heard Liz ask. She almost sounded concerned. About him? Why would she care?   
  
“He woke up for a little bit this afternoon, took some water and the medication Harvey had left-” Oh, those were the pills… “- and went back to sleep. Didn’t seem to believe me when I told him what you’d done to Morris.”

“Yeah...don’t tell anyone else that? I shouldn’t have lost my temper, even if he is a huge self centered windbag.”

“Don’t go looking ashamed! He deserved to be taken down a peg. Good on you, girl, for doing it to him.”

“Still. I should have done it a better way.”

“Honey, some people are stubborn. Heated language is the only thing that’s going to get through to them. Trust me, I know stubborn.” He could almost feel his aunt looking at the door to his bedroom. “But I swear I won’t tell anyone else. Shane doesn’t believe me probably so your secret’s safe.”

There was a little awkward chuckle and a moment or two of silene. “I should get back to the farm,” he heard Liz said. “Just wanted to check in on him. Do you or Jas need anything?” Yoba, she was taking care of Jas and Marnie too? Something twisted in the space under his ribs and teared his eyes as he listened to her.   
  
“We’re fine, Liz. Thank you for everything you’ve already done. I’ll let Shane know you dropped by.”    
  
They must have started moving towards the front door as they said their goodbyes, their voices dipping out of range as the moved. With a little hiss, he rolled over onto his other side and looked out the window from where his bed was. It was just bright out thanks to the few lights on the barns to catch sight of a familiar figure moving towards the road between their farms. Liz paused, looking back and making Shane wonder absurdly if she could sense she was being watched. But it wasn’t possible - there were no lights on in his room. She shook her head and continued on her way.   
  
Shane pulled the blanket closer, sleep coming easier this time as he looked out the window.


	5. Solitude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set directly after Breathing Room (Chapter 4).

Shane used the days that Liz had somehow managed to get him off to the full advantage. Resting, catching up on sleep, getting his cough under control. Jas was still confused that he wasn’t at work but hadn’t complained when he’d taken her and Vincent to the park both days, watching as the squealed and ran around until they were breathless.

But it was Sunday now, late. He hadn’t been able to sleep, even video games and television - his old standbys - not bringing any relief. He’d grabbed a six pack from the stash in his room, walking out into the cool of the night and headed towards the docks. His brain was too loud, too busy. A couple drinks and maybe he could at least shut it up enough to catch a few hours of sleep before he had to be awake for work again. Yoba, he wasn’t looking forward to that. To facing Morris and the long days again. His stomach rolled at the thought of it and he hadn’t even gotten through his first beer.

The sounds of footsteps on the dock let him know he wasn’t alone. He glanced back, catching sight of that ridiculous scarf Liz wore as she stopped slightly behind him. “Hey,” she said quietly. “How you feeling?”

He turned slightly, pointing at his noise in the meager light. “Less bruised, not coughing as much,” he said with a shrug. “I’ll live.” He held out a  bottle towards her, not sure if he’d seen her drink but figuring it was the least he could do. Neighborly and all that shit, he thought to himself. She took it, sitting down next to him and popping the top easily. Huh, well, wasn’t her first beer, he figured.

“Up late too?”

She just nodded, looking over at him with a little grin. “Too tired to sleep,” she said.  
  
He gave a huff of agreement, clinking the neck of his bottle with hers. “Hear you,” he said quietly. “...buh, life.” He looked back out over the lake with a sigh, appreciative that she didn’t pepper him with questions. He took a few long drinks. “...do you ever feel like no matter what you do, you’re going to fail?” he asked quietly, surprising even himself with the words.  


“Every time I till up the ground and put in seeds,” she said honestly, looking straight ahead. “I...my grandpa knew all this. I don’t know as much as he did. Every season I’m afraid I’m going to starve.” She took a sip of the beer, leaning back and setting the bottle on the dock beside her.

“It’s like you...you can’t see the light of day. Yoba, winter and fall I don’t see the light of day. Like some miserable abyss,” he mumbled, unable to stop himself. Yoba, why couldn’t he stop himself? “Just feels like no matter how hard I try that I’m not strong enough, that I’m just going to be stuck in that hole - in that damn Jojo Mart - til the day I die.” He took a long drink, draining the bottle, in effort to shut himself up.

“...before I came to the valley, I did pretty much the same you did,” she said quietly. “Day in, day out, under the lights, dealing with customers that didn’t treat people like human beings or even understand that we were human beings. Some of the managers and regional folks were even worse - demanding everything but the sun from us. There were days when I went home and just wanted to wake up dead, wanted to just quit. But starvation and poverty are really good motivators. But, Yoba, I hated everyone when I worked there. I couldn't even trust people trying to be nice because it felt Iike a trap.” She sighed, taking a long drink of her bottle. “So… I get it. I do.”

He gave her a half smirk, which may as well been a full smile from him. It was a shame that Liz was looking down at her hands like the meaning of the universe was written on them. “Retail slave and fast drinker, woman after my own heart,” he mumbled quietly, pulling a little chuckle from Liz. “You’ve at least got a future ahead of you - the farm and all. You’ll make it.”

She turned and looked at him, her eyes narrowing slightly at him. “...you’ll make it, too,” she said softly. He looked down, feeling her hand nearest to his move and wrap around his, tangling her fingers with his easily. Like they’d always been there. Like they were meant to be there. Her hands were always warm, some part of his brain thought. In spite of the beer she’d been holding, in spite of the cool night. When he looked back up, she was looking straight ahead over the water again. So Shane did the same thing, giving her hand a little squeeze before untangling his fingers from hers regretfully. His hand felt immediately cold with absence of her’s.

“...I should get going,” he said quietly. “My liver’s begging me to quit.” He pushed himself up, grabbing the rest of the six pack. Liz continued looking forward and Shane looked at her for longer than he’d admit, wanting her to look back at him. He wanted to ask her about yelling at Morris, about why she did that, why she’d helped him. He wanted to thank her for all of it, for checking up on Marnie and Jas. But he couldn’t work the words out of his mouth. As he turned to go, he heard her voice behind him.

“Don’t be a stranger, Shane,” she said quietly. “...if you need to talk, well, you know.” Yoba, she sounded awkward. 

He nodded, not answering as he walked back to the farm. Only two of the bottles were gone from the pack. How had that happened, he thought to himself. Maybe it was from getting more sleep, trying to quiet the voices with the television and video games before hand. He sighed, shaking his head as he walked quietly into his room and collapsed onto his bed. The voices he’d been trying to silent weren’t silent, but what they had to say was much more pleasant than when he’d gone seeking the quiet at the bottom of the bottle.


	6. Thaw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few stand alones before another 'connected' set. Love the comments and love knowing that people are having as much fun reading as I am writing! Got off my old butt and made a tumblr - same name there. Feel free to bug me (...I need to find blogs to follow...).

Shane hated working late. Especially in winter. But a late shipment had kept him there even later. He was sore, bruised and debating if he'd even bother with a shower as he walked. A little extra cash would be nice, though. He could get Jas that doll she'd been doting over on television. He'd been the godfather of the year for that. The thought warmed him in spite of the bite in the air. 

It would snow soon - his knees always ached more a good day or so out from a snow storm. And right now they were howling at him. Just the drizzle from earlier today had laid slick spots over the little bridges, stairs and paved walks. He kept his head down as he walked, partly for the wind, partly to mind his footing. The silence of the night was complete, low hanging clouds making the whole world seem smaller - not in a horrible way. Like a sweater, like a wrapped blanket. The only sound were footsteps, first his own, then others. 

Shane turned in the direction of the noise, catching a shape coming down the stairs behind Pierre’s. He checked his watch again, seeing how late it was. Who on earth was out this late in winter without a reason? As the figure approached the street light, it resolved itself into Liz, heavy poncho wrapped around her with an absurdly matching hat (with pompom), canvas sack and pick over her back.

“What’re you doing out this late?” he said loud enough for her to hear. She apparently hadn’t been paying attention to the world around her because she jumped at the sound of his voice, turning suddenly. Her smile turned from confusion to terror as her foot found a patch of ice near the foot of the lamp, sending flying. As she did, her bag and pick dislodged and went flying as well, all back on top of her. Shane muttered a few brief but heartfelt curses, half jogging over to where Liz laid, looking up at the sky.

“...damnit, you okay?” he asked, leaning over. Her eyes seemed to refocus on him as she moved slightly, revealing a cut on her head. Where’d that come from? He hadn’t seen the pick or bag land near her head. Upon further inspection, the clothing under her poncho was dusted with dirt and grime and some viscous translucent slime that appeared to be slowly freezing in the cold. His eyes narrowed at her. “What the hell have you been doing, Liz?” 

She just shook her head, moving to push herself up with a hiss. “Nothing, I’m fine,” she said, trying to force some of the cheerfulness into her voice. It fell flat, coming out more tired than anything. It clicked suddenly - the translucent goo, the wound, the late night. 

“Yoba, Liz, don’t tell me you’ve been in the mines all day,” he said. “The first few floors are fine but..” She just looked at him with a shrug, not bothering denying it as she gathered bag back up, stumbling slightly. As she went to swing it back over her shoulder she stumbled backwards. Only some instinct kept her upright, Shane reaching out to grab her arm and pull her forward roughly. She slammed into his chest, both of them somehow remaining upright. Sure, his back and knees screamed obscenities at him but the rest of him practically sang. Even in winter, warm as a ray of sunshine.

“I’m fine,” she said again, quieter this time. “I just… I hate winter. I can’t grow anything, chickens only produce so much. I took a few odd jobs from the mayor to make sure the slime population stays low and doesn’t threaten to spill out of the caves. I’m fine.” 

Shane had no idea how or why his hand had come to rest on her back, between her shoulderblades. But he had to give his hand credit, it was a great idea. “Lemme help you home,” he mumbled softly. “You should get that cut looked at too - in the morning.” She blinked up at him as if she was seeing some two headed alien.

“Really, you don’t have to go out of your way - you’re just getting off work, aren’t you? You’ve had a long day. I can make it from here. Isn’t that far,” she said.

“Look, you’ve helped me out with all that crap when I got sick so just let me help you out. Once. That’s all.” He grabbed the bag off her back, swinging it to his own and managing to hide the wince all in one move. She looked at him oddly but said nothing, grabbing the pick and tugging the poncho around her shoulders tighter.

“Marnie said you yelled at Morris,” he said as they walked, having wanted to hear the scenario from her mouth for a long time. She looked over at him suddenly, face pale.

“She said you likely didn’t believe that…”

“Don’t know if I do - you’re not the one to yell. Hell, you handle my rude obnoxious ass without yelling.”

“Yes, you’re rude but he’s just an asshole,” she mumbled, glancing over as they walked now and then. “He thinks he’s so important, that the sun rises and sets over his ass cheeks. Just… you can’t treat your employees like that - working you seven days a week and not expecting you to all but fall over. Honestly, I don’t know how you’ve done it so long...you’re tough.”

“No, just stubborn,” he amended, the words warming him regardless. “I have to pull my weight.”

“Either way… he needed taken down a few pegs soo…. Yeah, I yelled at him. In front of customers. I was one of those ‘I’d like to speak to the manager’ ladies.” Shane couldn’t help but chuckle at that, knowing exactly what she was talking about. She stared at him like she’d seen a ghost, a small smile pulling at the corner of her lips. “...you should laugh more,” she said softly as they rounded the corner to the farm, a faint warm glow spilling from the window and the light on the porch glowing reassuringly. 

“You’ve hit your head harder than you think you have,” he said in response, glad the darkness hid the heat that spilled into his cheeks and flowed outward from there. She just smiled at him, resting her pick against the side of the porch and helping Shane remove the bag. He caught glimpses of geodes and flashes of metal as she set it down beside the pick, tying off the top with a muttered ‘I’ll deal with it in the morning.’

“Doubt I did but thank you for walking me home,” she said with a genuine smile, some of the worn sound in her voice gone. “You’re okay from here? There’s not really a marked path between here and the south exit of the farm…”

“I’m sure I’ll make it. If not, I’ll just sleep on your porch.” She shook her head, looking at him for a few moments like she wanted to say something more before just shaking her head against and closing the distance between them, arms wrapping around him.

And he stood there, utterly and completely gobsmacked. His throat felt tight and his heart dropped to the vicinity of his ankles. His arms came around her in return, hesitantly at first as he leaned forward and rested his cheek against the top of her head. He screwed his eyes shut as he tried to keep the absurd tears that had appeared in check. What the hell - why was he tearing up? Why was she doing this? What had he done to deserve this? Yoba, he’d yelled at her and she still did things like this. Still helped him and looked in on Jas and Marnie. She was far too good for some jerk like him.

Strawberries. Her hair smelled like strawberries and spring in the middle of winter.

“Thank for the escort, Shane,” she mumbled. He nodded into her hair as she leaned back giving him a wide smile, saying nothing about the fact his eyes were rimmed with tears before slipping inside. The light clicked on behind the window and he saw her peek around the edge of the curtain, giving a little wave. He waved back, he couldn’t help himself, as he turned to walk towards the southern exit of the farm. 

No one was awake when he got home to see the smile that he wore. He fell asleep with it on, the feeling of being held echoing in his mind and singing through his chest as he fell asleep.


	7. Princess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another quick stand alone! Enjoy and thanks for all the kudos and comments.

Shane really should have paid more attention to what Jas had been saying about a ‘princess party’. She’d been talking about it yesterday morning, going on about how there were going to be frilly dresses and they were going to make crowns and paint their nails. He should have asked her more about it when she rambled about how it was going to be so much fun and they were going to have tiny sandwiches and tea from pretty mugs. But he’d been worn to the bone, five long days and late nights making him less than observant about his goddaughter’s stories. It wasn’t that he wasn’t listening or didn’t enjoy listening to Jas talk about her adventures. It was the opposite really - he loved seeing her all happy and lit up like a firework about something. But his brain wasn’t storing the information, just leaving him enough to nod along and agree with her that it was going to be an awesome party with whoever it was that she’d roped into this.

Which was why he wasn’t expecting Liz to be on the other side of the door when Jas screeched that they were here. He was expecting the fact that she was dressed up in ‘a frilly princess dress (Jas’s words, not his)’ even less.

She just smiled awkwardly back when he opened the door, watching his jaw drop slightly. Sure, he’d seen her around town, at festivals, at the bar. But he had not seen her like this. The dress was grey wool - like the color of storm clouds and steel and starlight - belted at the waist and the full skirt ending just above her knees. Creamy pink tights covered her legs, ending in grey flats with pink bows. Her short, usually unruly hair was tamed behind a wide pink scarf that was tied in the back, bow peeking around either side of her face. She’d thrown her barn jacket over the whole thing to walk here in the winter chill but it didn’t take away from anything. Yoba guard and preserve them all, she was wearing makeup. He knew this because he caught her lips smirk at him when he realized she was wearing lipstick.

“...you okay, Shane?” she said, apparently fully realizing that he was staring at her - her lips specifically. His eyes snapped back up to hers (she’d done something to those as well - how were they bluer?!), blushing from the ears down almost instantly.

“What’re you doing here?” Looking like that, he wanted to add.

“LIZZZZZZZ!” Jas practically screeched, throwing herself at the woman. Liz laughed, kneeling down so she was eye level with the younger girl so she should hug her. “You came you came you came!”

“Of course I did! Couldn’t miss the having tea with my favorite princess,” she said with a smile. She brought a canvas sack around - the same one she used for mining, Shane realized - pulling out a smaller purse. It was pink with purple and blue flowers, a little fat white chicken patch on it. “This was mine a long time ago - my mom mailed it with the patch to me a few weeks ago. I thought you might like it.”

Jas gently took the back and looked at it with open mouthed with awe. “It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” she said, completely serious. She looked back up, holding it up towards Shane. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“It is beautiful, little chickadee,” he answered with a nod, doing his best to ignore the little grin from Liz. Satisfied with the answer, Jas grabbed Liz’s hand and gave a gentle tug.

“Come on! Aunt Marnie told me we could bring the little sandwiches and tea into my room - just this once. We can’t eat in there all the time,” Jas said as Liz rose to her feet, following the girl obediently. She tossed a smile over her shoulder at Shane as she was pulled along.

“Have a good day at work!” she called as she was pulled around the corner, Jas going a mile a minute about what colors the should paint their nails. Marnie took that moment to poke her head around the corner, catching Shane’s confused gaze on the spot where Jas and Liz had disappeared around the corner.

“Who’d you think she’d roped into this?” Marnie said with a grin.

“Honestly? I wasn’t even sure,” Shane answered. “How?”

“Jas was telling her about a princess movie she was watching last week. How they had pretty frilly dresses and the like and ate little sandwiches and drank from fancy little cups, that she wanted to do something like that. Liz told her that she would have a princess party with her if she wanted - said there wasn’t much to do on the farm aside from feed the chickens.”

 _So she’d stopped going in the mines?_ Shane wondered to himself. Yoba, he hoped so. Her being down there turned his stomach for some reason.

“At least Jas will have fun,” Shane said. “Pity Liz, though - she’ll end up with ten different colored nails if Jas as her way.” Marnie just laughed, ducking back around the corner as Shane grabbed his jacket off the hook and ducked out, hearing the combined laughter of Jas and Liz as he left, the sound keeping him warm the whole day.

The party was over by the time he got home from the bar. He wasn’t entirely sure he could face Liz again when she looked like that - farmer Liz he could handle. ‘Pretty Princess Liz’, not so much. Yoba, he must look like a slob next to her, scruffy, slouching and worn around the edges.

The only evidence remaining of the party was a little covered plate with tiny sandwiches on it and a crayon scribbled note from Jas ( _For Prince Shane)_. A crown crafted from copious amounts of glitter on yellow construction paper was beside it with a Polaroid picture of Jas and Liz, smiling and hamming it up for the camera, wearing matching handcrafted crowns. He looked at the picture for longer than he’d admit, warmth pooling in his ribs as he did. He hadn’t seen Jas smile that big in months. He ate the sandwiches, taking the crown and setting it on the dresser in his room, the picture leaning against the lamp on his nightstand.

He’d look for a frame for it tomorrow.


	8. Emergency

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Computer troubles abound. Thank you for all the kudos and comments in spite of the lack of activity. Will get some more chapters up in the coming week.

The last person that Shane had expected to almost trip over on the stairs of the saloon was Liz. Well, maybe not dead last (Jas or Vincent, dead last), but she wasn’t in the top ten. And she didn’t even seem to notice him. She was bent over, curled forward. Her face was illuminated by her cell phone - Yoba, she had one of those all the way out here? Maybe she used it to keep in touch with her folks back in the city. Maybe a boyfriend, a little black part of him thought viciously.

“What’re you doing out here?” he asked. “It’s freezing.”

“Mom called,” she said, her voice hoarse. Like she’d been crying. She didn’t turn to look at him. He remained quiet, waiting. She continued. “Da’s in the hospital - someone hit him walking home from getting ice cream at the corner stop. Up on the sidewalk. Asleep at the wheel or something. He’s in ICU.”

“...you should go see him,” Shane said quietly, memories rising up in the back of his mind. Memories of the harsh lights and scents of the hospitals, the doctors faces when they told him, the noise that had pulled out of his throat as a result. He shoved his hands into the pocket of his hoodie to keep the from shaking, to keep the memories from drowning him.

Liz gave a bitter laugh. “Yeah, can’t really do that - don’t know how long I’d be gone. Even if it's winter. Chickens don’t care for themselves. Your aunt would murder me if I neglected them.”

“I’ll watch them,” he said, before he’d even realized his mouth had moved. Liz’s head whipped around, eyes narrowed at him like she didn’t believe the words were from him. In the light of the doorway, her eyes were red. Yoba, she had been crying. The realization twisted something under his ribs. “I’ll watch them,” he repeated softly, hoping he sounded a bit more convincing.

“You don’t have to…” she said cautiously. “You’ve got your own work and helping Marnie.”

“And you need to go see your dad.” 

“...I’ll pay you.” 

“You don’t have to.” Yoba, where were these words sneaking out from?!

“I’m going to.” She stood up, scrubbing her hand through her hair, setting it to even more unruly and on end. “..If I pack tonight, I can catch the early bus back or call a cab or something.” She looked up at him. “I’ll leave a key under the mat. Anything in the fridge is yours.”

He raised an eyebrow. “If you want to stay there - so you don’t have to go back and forth between your aunt’s and my place - less walking in the morning,” Liz explained. Oh that sounded awkward. He’d never even been in her house (save when he’d passed out but he didn’t remember any of that.). He nodded anyways. She had a point. “And I’ll leave notes. And my phone - can keep in touch, let you know when I’ll be back.” Oh this was getting even more awkward. But he nodded again.

“Just go get packed,” he said. “I’ll swing by there after work and check up on them.” 

It was Liz’s turn to nod, tears spilling over. Oh, no, not crying. He grabbed her on instinct, the memories crowding around him as he pulled her into a fierce hug, resting his head against the top of hers and shushing her softly as she tried to keep from breaking down. It was different from the first hug, his whole body aching in sympathy with the uncertainty of her situation, of her heartbreak. “Go home, pack, go see your mom and dad. Everything will be okay here. Take care of your family.” She nodded against his chest, sniffing and looking up at him.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “...I’ll call when I get to the city, just to let you know I made it.” He nodded as she untangled herself from his arms uncertainly. Her own arms wrapped around her chest as if she was trying to keep herself together as she walked back to the farm. Sighing and scrubbing his hair, Shane did the same, heading back towards Marnie’s.

His aunt was still up when he got home, reading. In quick terms, he told her what was going on, the woman’s hand going to her mouth as she listened. Told her about how he’d be watching Liz’s chickens and farm til she got back.

“You’ll be okay here with Jas and the farm?” he asked, looking down at his hands.

“It’s winter,” she said as if that answered a multitude of things. “There isn’t nearly as much to do. Take care of our girl.”

Shane looked up faintly. ‘Our girl’. He wasn’t sure how or when Liz had become their girl, but his aunt wasn’t far off. Jas adored her, Marnie would spend hours talking about feed and exchanging stories with the woman. And him? Yoba, he didn’t even know how or why but he knew any time she was around, his day was more manageable, like there was some light at the end of the tunnel.

He nodded, muttering something about packing a few things to take over there tomorrow. He’d throw them in his locker at Joja’s til the end of the day. But once he was in his room, he lost all motivation to pack. He sat on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his palms as he tried not to picture that night again, the wreck that had taken his best friends since childhood and Jas’s parents. Tried not to replay the screams as the car slammed into them. The smell of gasoline and copper, the silence that answered when he called their names. The feeling coming back to his legs in waves of pain that blacked him out, that still nagged him and haunted him still in the form of knees that screamed and ached.

He’d found the flask he kept stashed in the drawer of the nightstand, flipping down the polaroid of Jas and Liz before trying to at least keep the memories from following him into sleep.


	9. Revealing

For the first time in a long time, Shane was dreading the day being over. He knew what he had to do, going over to Liz’s and checking up on her chickens and the farm. It felt like such an invasion of privacy - like walking in on someone or seeing someone vulnerable. But it had to be done, not just because his aunt would be disappointed that he didn’t take care of the chickens (or flat out murderous he didn't take care of the chickens), but because he wanted to make sure Liz knew everything was fine. To let her know she could take care of things there without worrying about everything here.

He went to the chicken coop first, the quiet clucking of chickens calming him more than any drink. Little fluffs of white walked towards him as he entered, the half dozen or so chickens clucking softly as they approached. They pecked around his shoe laces, following him as he went to top of the feed. Liz had obviously fed them before she’d left, but topping them off couldn’t hurt. And a few pats on the head. And sitting with them for a little while. It was swept and clean and warm from the heater on the timer. 

Mostly he was just avoiding going to the house. Why? Honestly, he had no reason. It wasn’t like Liz was secretly a murderer hiding bodies there. Giving the chickens one last pat, receiving a parting ‘buk’ from one of them, he headed towards the house. The key was under the mat where she said and the room was surprisingly warm. A little space heater crouched in the corner, the light over her sink turned on. A note sat under her phone on the counter. It was mostly about the chickens (a note that one of them - Gertrude - liked to untie laces so to watch out for that). The number for her mother’s house if anything went crazy and he needed to get in contact with her. It ended with three ‘thank you’s and her signature.

Scrubbing the back of his neck, deciding that Liz likely wouldn't appreciate his smelly post-work and chicken snuggling self laying in her bed (Yoba that was weird to ponder…), he took a shower before flopping into the bed. Should he wear pajamas or something? This wasn’t HIS bed - what were the protocol on this? Were just his boxers okay? Pajama pants and shirt? Yoba, why didn’t he think this through or pack better. 

It was larger than his twin bed back at the farm. Too large. Between the big soft fuzzy blanket and the pillows, he felt like he'd been set out to sea. He grabbed the second pillow, curling around it and scooting towards the edge of the mattress. The pillows smelled like her shampoo, like mint and spring and strawberries and damn it if he wasn't holding it closer. 

He didn’t realize he’d nodded off until the sound of a phone ringing brought him back to reality.  Phone? When’d he get a pho-ohshit, Liz’s phone. He stumbled out of the bed, grabbing the phone off the dining room table on the eighth ring, fumbling it on after faintly noting it showed ‘Folks’ as the contact. 

“....hello?” he croaked, voice still asleep. He really hoped it was Liz answering the other end. 

“Shane? ..did I wake you up?” It was Liz, alright. Sounding like either she hadn’t slept or had just woke up. Shane answered with a grumble that could be taken either way, blinking at the clock over the sink. Fifteen or so minutes before when he usually woke up. 

“S’fine, Liz,” he said, scrubbing his eyes as he sat down at the table. “You made it there okay?” 

“Yeah…lost track of time and didn’t want to call you in the middle of the night just to let you know.” 

“...Middle of the night? You haven’t been to sleep yet, have you?” 

She chuckled softly, sounding tired even with the distortion of the line. “Nope, not yet,” she said softly, the sound of fabric rustling loud over the line. Was she in bed? He narrowed his eyes as he tried not to imagine that. 

“Get some sleep. You’re gonna need it,” he said. 

“...speaking from experience?” she asked, still quiet. Shane was silent for a few moments before Liz spoke again. “I’m sorry.. It’s none of my buis-” 

“Jas’s parents,” he said quietly, his chest feeling tight. “We were all in the same wreck. They didn’t make it.” 

There were a few moments before she gave a quiet “I’m sorry…” 

“You didn’t hit them.” 

“Yeah, but I was stupid and brought it up.” 

Shane shook his head, even though she couldn’t see it. “Liz. It’s not a big deal,” he lied. “Get some sleep. Trust me. Even if you don’t want to you’re going to wear yourself out.” 

“I thought it was my job to try to mother hen and take care of folks?” she said, smirk obvious in her voice. 

“Yeah, well, sometimes people won’t help themselves,” he responded. She laughed softly in response, recognizing her own words. 

“Okay, okay… I’ll get a few hours of sleep,” she said. For a few moments it was quiet, the only sign she hadn’t hung up the sound of her breathing on the other end. “...thank you, again, Shane. You didn’t have to do it and I appreciate it. A lot.” 

“You needed to be with your family,” he said. “You do a lot for this town - for Marnie and Jas. It’s the least I could do. You need anything, call. I’m not gonna take your phone to work or anything but, well, you know about when I get off.” 

She hummed faintly. “Will do. Thank you, Shane. Have a good day at work.” 

“No promises,” he mumbled, her soft chuckle warming him better than a cup of coffee. “Get some sleep, Liz.” She made an affirmative noise before the line went dead. Shane shook his head, looking at the phone for a few moments before getting ready for the day. 

The chickens were easy enough to tend, the coop clean enough and the feed easily topped off. He made it to work on time, the route from the farm to the mart a little shorter. The day went slow enough, which was nothing outside of the normal. Marnie dropped by when he took his lunch, talking a few moments outside about how each other was - Jas had asked when he was coming home, Liz checking in. And then the end of the day came, leading him back to the farm. He didn’t bother to stop by the bar and he wondered if he regretted that or not the whole way back to the farm. 

Chickens tended, coop swept, heater checked for the night, he found himself standing at Liz’s fridge awkwardly (she had the same snapshot of herself and Jas as princesses that he had, held to her fridge door with a princess crown magnet). She had say anything, right? Cursing himself, he pulled out a beer from a six pack at the back of her fridge and the makings for a sandwich. As he was making it, his eyes wandered the window ledge above the sink. A few houseplants, a couple of geodes and a...bottle cap? Curiously, he dropped the knife he’d been using for mayonnaise in the sink, picking up the cap and turning it over before recognizing it as the cap from the six pack he’d taken to the docks. She’d kept it? Why had she kept something like that? He set it back on the ledge, confused as he took the sandwich and beer over to the table. 

The phone buzzed, making him jump. Text lit up the screen, a sequence of numbers added to it. He picked it up as he took a bite.  
  
_Hey - it’s Liz. Found an old burner phone that I had and it still works so I added some time to it. Just use this to call me, ok? Will have it on me at all times if need anything! Nothing new to report -dad hasn’t woken up yet but isn’t getting any worse._

Shane hummed to himself, debating on answering before muttering a ‘screw it’ and slowly typing a reply. 

_Hey. No news is good news. Gertrude hasn’t untied my shoes. I’m going to work through your stash of beers while you are gone. I’ll restock you. How’re you holding up?_

_Don’t worry it too much about restocking. Glad she hasn’t gotten to you - she’s persistent. Am holding up okay. Trying to keep everyone else holding up okay. Lots of cooking and grabbing hot beverages and take out. Making sure everyone eats and sleeps and gets out of the room every now and then._

_So just like back here. Babysitting everyone._

_Old habits._

He paused before typing out a lengthy response.  
  
_Don’t forget to take care of yourself - can’t take care of anyone else if you don’t take care of yourself first. It sounds selfish but make sure you eat and drink and get time away from the situation too or you'll get consumed by it all. You aren't half as invincible as you think you are._

He deleted the last sentence of _‘I'm not there to make sure you're okay.’,_ not knowing why he'd wrote it.

_I'll do my best. Say hi to Jas and Marnie for me?_

_Of course._

It went on like this for a week. Liz would text him a few times in the evening to check in, sometimes just sounding more and more tired. He'd do his best to cheer her up. Once he figured out the camera, he sent her pictures of the chickens and the farm. His personal favorite was one where Gertrude had landed on his head. 

He wasn't expecting the phone to ring at three in the morning, but he picked it up anyway, a sinking feeling in his stomach. “Liz?” 

There was almost silence on the other end, save for the sound of cars driving by. “...he's dead,” she said, her voice quiet. Shane's heart ached in sympathy. 

“Yoba, I'm sorry, Liz.” 

“Why can't I cry?” she said quietly. “My father died and I'm walking around like it's just a Saturday. Mom and the aunts and grandma are all sobbing and... I just can't.” 

Shane pushed himself upright, scrubbing the back of his neck. “I don't know. Everyone mourns different.” 

“...but he’s...was my dad…” 

“I know, Liz. I'm so sorry…” 

She sighed slowly over the phone and Shane just wanted to put a blanket around her and just hold her. For the first time in a long time, he wanted to just take care of her the same way she took care of Marnie and Jas, wanted to offer a shoulder. 

“I shouldn't have called you this early,” she mumbled. 

“It's okay,” he assured her. “I mean it.” 

She sniffed faintly - Yoba, please don't start crying. It'd break him. “...I just wanted to hear your voice,” she said, sounding much younger and far less herself than he'd heard her ever. He was shocked into silence as she continued. “I know it's stupid but you're the one person that I know will be honest with me and won’t sugar coat it.” 

“It's not stupid,” he said, his voice coming back to him. “It's big. It'll take time to sort through. It's gonna hurt like hell.” She gave a bitter laugh on the other end of the line. “At least he went quietly surrounded by people that loved him. Although it doesn't take the sting away, there are far worse ways to go.” 

She was quiet. He thought she’d hung up or the phone had disconnected. But her voice came through softly again. “Can I call you again tomorrow - well, later today?”  
  
“Of course.”


	10. Tomorrow

The funeral was three days after Liz’s father passed. It was beautiful, as much as those events could be. Full of friends and family and loved ones. Or at least that's what Liz had said. The past evenings, she'd called and Shane had done his best to be a sounding board, beer in one hand, phone in the other. It made him tired, in his heart and in his head, but it also made him feel an odd sensation of pride. That she would talk to him of all people. 

“I'm going to try to catch the bus back tomorrow,” she said, the sound of her flopping across a bed loud. Shane had gotten used to the sounds of the background, placing where she was. LIkely the room she’d lived in with her parents, long since converted to a guest room apparently. “...I need to get back to the farm.”

“You're sure about that?” he asked. “I don't mind watching the chickens a few more days.”

“I'm sure,” she said quietly. “My aunts are going to help mom pack things up or not and finish up anything pertaining to his insurance and will.” She sighed, he could almost see her rubbing the bridge of her nose. “I just want to be back, try to start getting back to normal. I can't just sit and think and think and think. It’ll be spring soon…”

“It’s your choice. I’ll make sure to clean up after all the parties that have been had in your absence,” he said, trying to lighten the situation, grinning in spite of himself as he heard her faint chuckle.

“Oh? Parties?”

“Yep, Gertrude knows how to throw back and party. Place is trashed - feathers, dirty dishes, one of the chairs is broken…” 

“So when I hang up you’re going to be cleaning franticly? Going to get Gertrude a little broom and dustpan?”

Shane made a disbelieving noise. “What makes you think I haven’t already?” Liz answered with a little chuckle and a few quiet moments of silence following.

“..thanks for talking to me,” she said quietly. “Even though I know you probably hate it-” He didn’t, he looked forward to it all day. “-and think it’s silly for me to say this, but it’s helped keep me sane this past week or so…”

“Well Jas and Marnie wouldn't forgive me if I didn’t let them know how you were and they couldn’t pass on that they were thinking of you,” he said, trying to brush off the warmth that spread through his chest. “Plus, if you didn’t call, you’d think Gertrude had taken over…” 

She gave another small chuckle. He could almost see her shaking her head faintly. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Tomorrow turned out to be fairly late in the evening. Though the day, he’d gotten a steady stream of notifications of bus breakdowns, late connections, almost missed connections and general lamenting of taking the bus. He reassured her that it was fine - he’d check up on the chickens when he got off work, it wasn’t any kind of big deal. And it wasn’t. He ended the day, throwing a kernal of corn in Gertrude’s direction, watching her bat it around towards him indignantly before going back to Liz’s house and sitting down on the couch for a few moments. Just to see if she ended up back here so he could give her back the key and make sure she was as okay as she kept insisting. 

He instead ended up waking up to the sound of someone sitting down on the couch. He grumbled, opening his eyes to see the back of Liz’s sweater as she kicked off her boots, tossing her hat onto the side table. He must have fallen asleep and just fallen sideways from his sitting position. She glanced back, little grin pulling at the corner of her lips when she saw him watching her.

“You didn’t have to stay… could just leave the key under the mat.”

“Wanted to make sure you got back okay,” he grumbled, moving to sit up. Well, attempting to move. Liz tucked her feet up onto the couch, stretching out along side of him. And Shane just froze. This was a dream. It had to be. He’d wake up and be drooling and snoring on her sofa. But, Yoba, this felt real.

It wasn’t a particularly spacious or comfortable couch - an awkward step above a futon, really. But, in this moment, he didn’t care. Liz seemed to notice the fact that he was about as welcoming as a brick wall and looked up at him. 

“...I can move if you want me to,” she said, leaning back to do just that. Shane shook his head, shifting faintly so that he could toss an arm around her and pull her closer. In which case it was Liz’s turn to go brick wall. She at least recovered before he did, shoulders relaxing as she brought her hands up to rest against his chest. Her forehead bumped against the center of his chest lightly as she let out a long, quiet sigh like she’d been holding it since she left. He couldn’t stop looking down at the top of her head like he was waiting to wake up and frantically hoping he never did.

“Does it ever not hurt?” she asked, not looking up, her voice warm against his chest. And he knew what she was talking about instantly. The constant ache that comes from losing loved ones, from losing people. His arm tightened around her slightly as he remained quiet for a few moments, not knowing how to answer it at all.

“...no,” he said honestly. “It’s always there. There’ll be a song and suddenly you’ll want to tell them about it or remember how they loved it. Or ice cream that they used to love and making a note to ask them to get a cone later on. Filling out cards for holidays and birthdays to send them. Somedays are just better than others.” He paused, looking down at the top of her head again. He brought his hand up, brushing his fingers through her hair quietly as they laid there. “Sometimes, if you’re lucky, you find people that make the ache less. That make their memories something to be cherished and celebrated, not mourned.”

Liz looked up at him, eyes narrowed as if she was trying to process the words. She, honestly, looked beat - bags under her eyes, hair messy and pushed back. Her sweater was old and too big for her ( _ looked like a man’s sweater, maybe her father’s, _ Shane thought with a little pang of sadness). But in that moment, stretched out on the couch with him by her choice, not seeming to mind any of this, she may have been the most beautiful woman in the world.

And that terrified him.

He was by no means an inexperienced youth - hell, he wasn't even a youth. He'd kissed, he'd had sex. He'd thought he was going to ask a woman to marry him before the wreck had taken his friends and his happiness and a chance at a good life, leaving him some scruffy looking chubby stock boy with bags under his eyes and insomnia and a generally surly disposition. Why was she even here with him? She was seven levels out of his league but she just smiled at him and spoke to him like she didn’t see any of that.

She uncurled herself faintly, hand untangling from against his chest and resting against his cheek. He turned into her touch, his eyes narrowed in confusion, stomach dropping. His heart knew what was going on a flash before his brain did, before it registered the touch of her lips on his, tentative, questioning. She leaned back faintly, looking at him uncertainly from under bangs and eyelashes, trying to gauge his response. Gauge if she should run. Oh, Yoba, she should run. She was far too good for him. The tentative smile she’d been wearing faded slightly. 

He had leaned forward before he realized, hand sliding up along the back of her neck and against the back of her skull. His lips crashed against hers like a wave, a little moan escaping him. Her hand slid against his cheek, lips parting for him slightly. His tongue brushed against her lips, against her tongue, and she tasted divine. A little noise escaped Liz and he leaned back instantly. Her eyes were half lidded, her face flushed, her lips swollen. 

“Are you okay?” he murmured, suddenly nervous. Why had he done that? Why hadn't he done that sooner. For a few seconds everything had felt right and warm and he wanted that back. 

Liz just nodded, smiled spreading on her lips. “I’m better than okay,” she mumbled, pulling a surprised chuckle from them both as she rested her forehead against his. “Stay the night. Please. I promise, no kissing if you don't want it. I...I just don't want to be alone tonight.”

“I’ll stay,” he said quietly, his hand coming down to rest on the small of her back. And she just beamed, some of her old cheer shining through the exhaustion and heartache and warming him better than any drink from the Stardrop. She kissed his lips again, softly, like a thank you, as she rested herself against him and slipped off to sleep almost immediately. 

Shane woke sometime in the night, not sure what exactly had woken him at first and his brain taking a full moment to recognize where he was. And then the weigh against him registered, the soft warm breathing against his chest, hands curled up and tucked against his ribs. Socked feet shifted against his bare ones as Liz moved against him in her sleep with a little tired noise. A deep, delicious ache spread through his heart and along his ribs as he tightened his arm around the woman slightly, forehead coming to rest against the top of her head as he fought down the urge to either cry with joy or get up and dance.

It hadn’t been a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aw yiss. smoochie smoochie.


	11. Sprout

Spring came with a flash of green and heat and the smell of earth, the long days and the hot sun beating down on them all. In an instant, Liz became busy and Shane saw her maybe once or twice a week in passing. When he did, she was exhausted and covered in smudges of dirt and bruised. But, oh Yoba, when she noticed him and gave him that smile that warmed him from the inside out.

He still didn’t know what to do with their relationship - was it even a relationship really? She had kissed him easily and for a few moments he’d felt like he had before everything had happened - like he was safe, like he was warm and whole and Yoba what he would do to feel that again. But what were they? He hadn’t asked - honestly he’d been terrified to. Would she laugh at him? Why a woman like her would want to be with someone like him was beyond him. They'd both been so busy there hadn't been much time for in depth conversation let alone kissing. A selfish part of him wished it was still winter and she had less responsibilities.

It was Friday - not that it mattered - and the Stardrop sounded like a great idea. It’d been a long day, a long week. A long everything. The egg festival would be coming up soon so he’d have helping his aunt with that on top of his usual workload - not that he minded. Decorating the eggs with Jas’s assistance was his favorite part of the year. But today? He just wanted to quietly drown his thoughts out of what he was to anyone at the bottom of a mug or five of cheap beer.

And so he did, ignoring the looks from Gus. The man knew everyone's business. “How's our farmer doing? Know she had to go back home recently- dad, a shame that,” he said, wiping down a spot on the counter. A flash of possessiveness spilled into his guts like fire. She wasn't theirs. Where had they been when she'd been heartbroken? Sure they'd sent their cards but he didn't recall hearing about one of them coming by. 

Just as quickly as the hot flash appeared, a cold wave of doubt drowned it. One kiss and he thought that gave him some right, some claim. Yoba, there was likely a reason she was avoiding him - misguided sympathy, didn't want to deal with him. Who would, really? He was honestly surprised she had this long. She could do so much better than him, even in a town this small.The doc or the writer that lived in that shack near the ocean - anyone but him.

“Busy with planting for the spring I guess,” Shane mumbled, taking a long swallow of his drink. 

“Ah, maybe she’ll swing by at some point,” he said with a shrug and an easy smile. Shane didn't answer, hoping he'd get the hint and leave him alone to stew some more. He did and Shane finished several more drinks in record time even for him before his drink addled brain got a wonderful horrible idea.

He should just go see Liz and have all this out. Just lay it all out there. Once and for all. 

He could almost hear his future sober self screaming in terror. But it didn't stop him from getting up and out of the Stardrop, walking far steadier than he thought he would. It was just hitting twilight now - Yoba, he loved that about spring and summer. Being able to see the sun. 

As he approached the farm, he could see Liz on the porch facing the setting sun. She was practically bathed in the last gold rays. Like some kind of angel, his drunk brain thought. She had her work overalls on still, covered in mud from head to toe. Her hair was knotted and braided under a wide sun hat. He tripped over a loose stone, keeping his footing but managing an amazing little dance as he did so. Liz turned, hearing him and seeing the little show. A smile pulled one side of her lips up. 

“Hey, didn't expect to see you here,” she said, wiping some of the smudged dirt off her cheek. “What bring you out? Thought you said you were going to hit up the Stardrop.” She paused, eyes narrowing. “...are you drunk?”

He plowed right through the question to the root of why he was there before the liquid courage wore off. “What are we?” he blurted out with all the subtleties of a cinder block to the face. Liz’s face would have been hilarious if the situation was different - eyebrows vanishing under her bangs and mouth parted in surprise. He plowed on, terrified of what she would say in response. 

“Because I look at you and the world isn't as dark as it was a year ago, a few months ago. You smile at me and it terrifies the hell out of me because I'm afraid that it might be the last time you do that because I know that I'm going to do something to fuck it up. But I crave it more than the next drink or a day off or Jas’s smile and laugh. You feel important and it scares me. You're out of my league in so many ways and part of me thinks you just talk to me out of sympathy or some sense of obligation. I mean, look at me. I'm not even a participation prize and, honestly, I'm almost okay with that because Jas adores you. For a week after your party with her she swore you were actually a princess, a queen in waiting - still does. And I can't prove her wrong. I look at you and I'm whole.” His voice cracked on the last word and his eyes itched, fingers stuffed into his pockets to keep from reaching out for her.

Through the conversation, Liz’s hand crept slowly over her mouth and her eyes were blown wide. And she was stone silent. Why wasn't she saying anything? Worry and too many drinks clawed at his guts. Was she terrified of him? Disgusted with him? He was. “I'm gonna be sick…” 

He managed to make it around the corner of her house at least before he finished spilling his guts with actually spilling his guts. His braced himself against the side of her house with an outstretched arm as his legs threatened to give out.  _ No no no, _ he thought to himself.  _ Can't stay here. Just go home. Hope she forgets all of this… _ He took a few breaths to steady himself, eyes closed as he leaned. Yoba what has he been thinking?!

A soft touch on his shoulder made him jump and almost stumble. He turned, seeing Liz’s hand outstretched to catch him. Her other hand held a half empty bottle of water towards him. it was a smudged with dirt as she was. 

“It's not cold.. but it's something…” she said softly. He wanted to run but his legs wouldn't let him. Awkwardly, he accepted the drink and managed a thanks, avoiding her eyes like he was being paid to do so.

“This is really fucking awkward now,” he muttered, trying to not retch again. He caught Liz's soft smile out of the corner of his eye.

“Come inside and sit before you fall over. You were wobbling the whole time you were talking.” She turned to go inside. Like this conversation hadn't happened. And Shane wasn't sure if he was happy about that or not. If he should follow or not. Against his better judgment (because his judgment was doing him so many favors today..) he followed. 

“You're welcome to a shower if you want one,” she said in way of greeting as he entered. She was cutting something, not looking up.

“...but you're covered in mud. And I don't have anything to wear.”

“And the shower will be after I get out. And you left some of your clothes here when you babysat the chickens. I haven't had a chance to bring it back…” He was about to protest more when she just pointed to the bathroom, still not looking up. Oh, this wasn’t good. “Go.” Softer. “Please.”

He sighed softly, scrubbing the back of his neck. “Where’re the clothes?” 

“Under the sink, basket.”

And so he went, pulling out the clothes - which ended up being the pajamas he’d brought. A chicken shirt he’d gotten from Jas a few birthdays ago and threadbare cotton pants. The shower at least eased the muddled feeling in his head, the cool water feeling good against his skin. But being able to think a little more clearly wasn’t exactly something he wanted at the moment. It meant remembering every single word. It meant remembering the way she’d been silent in response and dissecting every twitch of her face to try and figure out what she thought about it. 

He shoved his shirt over his head and exited, head down, awkwardly shuffling with clothes in hand before sitting down on the couch. He kept his eyes down, brain burning a hole in itself with all the unanswered questions. He heard Liz move towards the bathroom, catching a glimpse of her socks before he heard the shower flip on.

He'd been stupid. Likely not the stupidest he'd been but oh it was up there. She hadn't looked at him since he'd been sick around the corner of her house. And hadn't even acted like she'd heard his speech. She was being nice to him just out of reflex and expectations. Yoba, he was a moron…

His head was down, buried in his hands still, when she exited, when she sat down next to him. He glanced over at her, just peeking over the side of his hand as if he wasn’t entirely sure she was sitting down. She was looking ahead with her elbows on her knees. A long sigh and she started talking. “...I heard everything you said,” she said quietly. “But I’m not good at figuring out a good way to respond.”

Oh.  _ She doesn’t feel the same way,  _ a little black part of his mind muttered.

“Aren’t drunk enough. It’s okay,” Shane muttered. “You don’t have to feel the same way.” Yoba he wanted her to. 

“No, I do feel the same.”

Shane may have almost snapped his neck turning to look at her, lips parted faintly as if he wanted to ask something but couldn’t get it out. Liz chuckled softly, chancing a glance over at him before looking ahead and continuing.   
  
“Even though you’re the town’s grumpy asshole, you’re my grumpy asshole. I trust you more than anyone in this town, more than anyone from my old life. You’re stronger than you think you are. Jas may have called me a princess, but you’re the knight - even if your armor is just a ratty hoodie,” she said, little grin pulling the side of her lips even though she still was looking straight ahead. “I thought when I was back in the city for…” She paused, taking a breath. “I thought that was home. I’d lived there for years, my whole life had been there, why shouldn’t it be? But it didn’t feel like home. I came back here and I could breathe again. Home is this town, this farm, these people. Home is you. So, don’t go thinking you’re alone in this.”

He didn’t realize he was staring at her open mouthed until she turned and his mouth snapped shut. A little chuckle pulled out of Liz.    
  
“So...what does that make us?” Shane asked quietly.   
  
“Confused as hell but hopeful?”   
  
Shane managed a bark of laughter. “I think I could learn to like that.”


	12. Disarm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check the tags as things have been added. There will be 1.1 spoilers/storyline referenced and worked into the rest of the story so there will be mentions of that. Rating updated to accommodate further chapters. Story completed, will work at posting a chapter every few days while working on a new fic. Thank you all so much for your patience with this story, you're all amazing chickadees and I appreciate it more than I can put into words.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

He’d thought he’d been getting better. Yoba, there’d been days where he was whistling - WHISTLING. But it’d snuck up behind him like a kid on a playground and decked him hard in the back of the head, taking him to his knees. His thoughts went dark again, concerned looks coming from Marnie. He did his best to avoid Liz - she didn’t need to be saddled with his troubles. She had better things to do than deal with someone like him. She had a future. She deserved better than him. He did even better to avoid Jas - no one needed an influence like him in their life at her age. Work and the Stardrop made it easy. He’d leave earlier and earlier, walking slowly by the cliffs along the ocean now and then in the mornings before turning to work. He’d stay out later and later, sometimes not bothering to even sleep in his bed. He moved through the days in a haze of sleep, work and drowning the problems with a renewed vigor and interest in beers. He hadn’t been drinking as heavily the past few months but now? It was the easiest way to dull the ache and make everything quiet enough to sleep. It all just piled back up on him - his failures, his past, the lack of future plans set before him. He couldn’t live like this but was too much of a coward to do anything else.

She wasn’t supposed to find him. No one was supposed to find him. But he’d gotten sloppy. Or she was just very very good. Likely the second one because she was so good - good enough to tolerate him, to keep up the facade of caring about him. Good enough to survive and thrive in this world while he was stuck at Joja til the day he died. Which he hoped was sooner and sooner.

“It’s raining,” she said, pointing out the obvious. He opened his eyes, greeted with the sight of rain boots with chickens drawn on them. She was kneeling beside him, umbrella held so it was covering them both. It didn’t really matter - he was already soaked through. He didn’t say anything, only looking further up til he reached her face, sound of the waves against the cliff muffled by the rain pattering on the umbrella. “You’ve been avoiding me.” The sad note and downward tilt of her lips tore at his gut worse than the beers from the empty bottles around him.

“I… I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his voice cracking. She swam in and out of focus either from the rain or the drinks or the embarrassed angry tears that came to his eyes. He heard her made a dismissive clicking noise behind her teeth as she reached forward and pushed his hair back from his face. “My life’s a mess. A joke…”

Liz didn’t say anything, just quietly pushing his hair back with an unreadable expression on her face. And his words kept spilling out like water, like the rain. “I can’t do this anymore, Liz,” he mumbled, turning his head so he didn’t have to look at her, to see her disappointed expression. “I mean, look at me. Why do I even bother to keep trying? Too stupid, too small. Can’t take control of my own life for Yoba’s sake. Just a piece of shit.” The fingers on his hair stuttered faintly before resuming their steady movement.

“World would be a better place if I’d just roll off these cliffs but I’m too much of a coward even for that. Too scared, too anxious, too stupid. Just like I’ve always been. I work, I sleep and drink. That’s it. I should’ve never made friends with you, I’m… I’m just a disappointment and you don’t need that.” He took a shuddering breath, trying to keep at least a fragment of his dignity and not break down sobbing. “Why shouldn’t I just push myself off this cliff, Liz? There’s no damn good reason not to.”

There were times when Shane forgot that Liz was a farmer - spending days swinging tools and working with her arms for hours on end. The fact that she grabbed him by his arm and yanked him up against herself like it was nothing was proof of that. The hand that had been holding the umbrella over them was wrapped around him, holding him close as if she didn’t realize that he was soaked through and she was going to be soon too. Like she didn’t care that he likely smelled horrible and looked worse. Her arms tightened around him, forehead against his neck as she spoke.

“People here need you,” she said softly, her voice catching on the words as she spoke.

“No one needs me, Liz."

“Jas and Marnie need yo-”

“Would be fine without me.”

“I need you.”

He paused at that. “No, you don’t, Liz. I’d just disappoint you. Stock boy with no future - someday you’d grow to resent me.”

She just tightened her arms like she was anchoring him there. And in truth she likely was - mentally and physically. “That isn’t all you are to me, Shane.”

He wanted to argue with her. He wanted to scream at her that she was wrong, that he wasn’t needed, that he was just as disposable as the beer bottles around them. He wasn’t special - not compared to her or Jas or Marnie. They’d all be fine without him. But the arms around him were warm in spite of the storm and the collar of his hoodie was wet with more than rain. He tried not to show it, tried to keep it together but she had jostled the last stone keeping him together. He shook, burying his face against her shoulder to hide the silent sobs that escaped him. Her arms looped around him tighter, a soft reassuring shush coming from her as she pressed her cheek against the top of his head.

“I don’t know what to do, Liz,” he said against her shoulder. He felt weak against her, cold from the rain and the hole where all the words he’d spilled to her had lived. His teeth chattered in spite of himself. “Maybe...maybe I should go see Harvey.”

Liz stilled, looking up at him with a little nod. Her nose and eyes were red from crying, clothes and hair soaked to her skin. She rose, offering him a hand up. He took it, leaning against her as they walked. Her hand never left his, a warmth against the ice of his own thoughts.

It only took Liz beating on the door with a fist and saying a few less than savory words to bring Harvey downstairs. For a moment, he looked like he was going to yell at them or at least scold them but he just ushered them in while muttering about the ill effects of wandering around in the rain soaking wet even if it was still spring. Shane leaned against her, hand still wrapped securely around hers as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“What brings you here?” Harvey asked, grabbing a clipboard as he spoke. “Both of you are amazingly stubborn about visiting for even a check up.”

Shane took a breath, the words coming easier since he’d emptied himself of them to Liz, since her hand gave his a reassuring squeeze as she quietly excused herself to give him privacy and some dignity. He watched the door where she’d exited for a moment or two longer than strictly necessary. Harvey raised an eyebrow quietly but didn’t say anything, sitting down on a stool in front of him.

“I need to talk to someone, doc,” Shane said, his voice sure. For Liz, for Jas, for Marnie, for himself - he needed to get stronger.


	13. Sunshine

Shane hadn’t been able to sleep the day after getting released from Harvey’s infirmary. Liz had apparently passed on the bare details to Marnie, allowing him to fill in how much he wanted his aunt to know. She’d brought Jas over for a princess sleepover to distract her with princess movies with knights and dragons and princes, complete with pizza. The house had been too quiet and he’d been trying to not chase the silence away with the bottom of a bottle.

Hence why he ended up finding himself wandering at sunrise towards Liz’s farm.   
  
Some part of him needed to see her, to apologize in some small way for everything, for making her cry. To thank her in some small way, for keeping him from seeing what a roll off the cliff would have been like. The gentle clucking of waking chickens pulled his attention. This whole farm - all the crops, all the beasts and buildings were all hers to tend. He had no idea how she did it on her own, how she didn’t fall over dead every day.

Well, that at least he could help her with, he thought as he opened the door to the coop and was greeted by a few snoozing fluffy clouds of chickens. It was supposed to be warm and the area just outside was fenced so he quietly opened the coop door before grabbing the broom. Slowly the chickens shuffled out, Gertrude coming over and pecking at his shoelaces a few times before being on her way as well. He set to work sweeping, not really thinking about anything. It was maybe an hour before the coop door slammed open and a startled farmer stared at an equally startled him.

“Shane?” she asked as if she didn’t believe he was in her chicken coop.   
  
“Couldn’t sleep,” he said. Liz raised an eyebrow to this.   
  
“So you decided to come clean my chicken coop? I mean, not that I’m complaining at all just was a bit startled when I saw everyone in the yard after I was sure that I closed the door…”   
  
He gave a little shrug, going back to his work for a few moments. “Just wanted to help - you run this whole place by yourself. Figured you could use a hand now and then.” She chuckled softly, grabbing a wire basket as she headed to the nesting boxes.

“You are always welcome to crash the coop for cleaning purposes,” she said. They worked around each other quietly, Liz gathering a few eggs here and there, replacing dirty bedding while Shane swept. The silence wasn’t awkward or forced, just there as they worked, Liz giving him his space and time while keeping near. He took a breath, almost hating to break the moment of peace.   
  
“Harvey gave me the names of a few docs in the city that I could talk to,” he said, looking down as he swept. “He says they’re all good people and I could probably talk to them over the phone for appointments after meeting them initially since it’s a bit of a ride.”   
  
Liz hummed softly. “You’re going to go then?” she asked, doing her part of not looking over at him either, checking an egg before placing it gently in the bucket.   
  
“I… I need to get better,” he said softly. “I can’t just drink it away. Yoba, I was laying face down on a cliff. If I’d passed out I could have rolled off or gotten sick. It’s close enough to the farm that Jas could have found me…” He shuddered in spite of himself. “I can see that it wasn’t my brightest moment but...it had made sense at the time. Nothing was going right so I did what I always did - drink and try to shove everyone away.”

“You’re gonna have to work harder to shove me away,” she said with a little chuckle. “Likely even harder for Jas and Marnie. ...I think it’s a good idea, Shane. I can listen to you, I can even talk to you… but the docs that Harvey gave you have training and experience and...Yoba, Shane, I just want you to do this for you. You take care of everyone else - I mean, you’re in my coop before sunrise apparently cleaning because you were bored. I want you to take that much care of yourself too.” He’d slowly started looking up as she spoke, realizing that she was standing in front of him. She gave him a little grin, her free hand coming up and pushing his hair back. He didn’t move, still a little humbled by her simple acceptance. Rising up on tiptoe, she placed a kiss on his forehead.   
  
“...does this change anything between us?” he asked, startling even himself with the question. She laughed softly, humming before nodding. For a second, he felt his heart drop to his ankles.   
  
“Just makes me admire you a little more,” she said, picking his heart back up and putting it back into his chest to only have it leap into his throat. “Little less confused, little more hopeful.” And Shane had to laugh a little bit, continuing to sweep because the alternative was cry and pull her into a hug. She smiled over at him, grabbing the wire bucket and gently clapping him on the arm. “Come on, let me make you and Jas breakfast before I walk her home. It’s still too early for you to be walking to work anyways and I doubt you’ve eaten.”   



	14. Summer Haze

Spring  boiled into one of the hottest summer’s on record for Pelican Town. Even old timers like Lewis and Willy were surprised at the temperature, remarking that they would likely get more frequent and stronger storms before the season was out. To which Liz would respond that she surely hoped so because she was tired of watering the crops twice a day to keep the sun from burning them to dust.

Shane kept his promise to himself. He’d gone into the city, meeting up with one of the doctors that Harvey had suggested. At first it went about as his fears expected - he became defensive, closed off, one word answers to questions. But the doctor quietly and infuriatingly patiently kept talking to him, asking him more precise questions and answering or asking questions back in such a way that helped Shane try to make sense about it. Several times, he got asked why are you here? Why was he here? Wasn’t it obvious? He was a screw up. The doctor refuted it, pointing out how he’d told him about Jas and Marnie, how Shane had taken care of them.  
  
Why was he here? Because the doc was on the list Harvey had given him. Second one, actually - first one wasn’t taking new patients at this time.   
  
Why was he here? Because Jas and Marnie and Liz didn’t deserve a screw up like him in their lives and he couldn’t drag them down.   
  
Why was he here? ...because he needed to get better, to find some sense of balance in his life, to understand why his brain was doing this to him and how to fix it or combat it when it did. 

He and the doctor came to an agreement after the third visit - Shane would call once a week during the usual appointment time and they’d talk that way. If Shane missed a call, he’d go back to coming in to the physical office in the city. But he could tell there was progress happening even if it was slow going - he was starting to understand some of why he would just have really off days, dark days. The doc had suggested he do the things that made him feel useful on days like this - something other than working at Joja mart. And so Liz got a very well swept chicken coop every now and then, joining him usually an hour or so into his work and talking about nonsense and town gossip in her own effort to not so much cheer him up but to give him something else to occupy his mind. To her credit, Liz didn’t treat him any different after the whole cliff episode and his going to the doctor. It wasn’t something he widely advertised, part of him fearing the looks he’d get from the townsfolk. Marnie, Harvey and Liz were the limit of the people that knew and he was fine with that. He didn’t want or need the attention.

“Coming to the luau?” Liz asked, interrupting his thoughts as they sat on her porch. He’d come over early this morning, sweeping and thinking. She’d made him toast with homemade jam and coffee as a small thanks. It was barely past sun up and it felt like the sun had been out for hours in the clear sky. Already the dirt around the crops was drying. The weatherman had said rain but he had to be a big fat liar in Shane’s opinion.

“Probably,” he said, taking another bite. The fact that she kept a few jars of hot pepper jelly just for the mornings he dropped by in her fridge always warmed his heart. “Hopefully it will cool down a little by then. Already pushing into the nineties… rumor of triple digits by the time the thing starts.”  
  
“Weather said rain…”   
  
“Weather lies.” Liz chuckled softly, taking a bite out of her own bread. He glanced over. She’d traded her usual overalls and long sleeves for a short sleeve shirt and shorts that showed off more leg than he thought prudent for farm work but he’d be damned if he wouldn’t admire them. For someone shorter than even him, she was mostly leg. Her feet were bare for the moment and her toes were a different color each - her and Jas had another princess party a week or so ago.

“I’m going to try to get some more of this all done before the heat sets in,” she said with a sigh, dusting her hands off on her legs and standing up to put on her work boots and socks again. “See you tonight?”  
  
“See you tonight,” he said, watching her walk off. Watching for entirely too long and too intently. He shook his head, finishing the last of his toast as well and heading towards Joja. He tried to get the visual of those legs out of his head for most of the day but they kept coming back. He hoped both that she didn’t put something different on and did put something different on for the Luau.

His wishes were both granted in the most confusing way possible.  
  
She was talking to Marnie, back towards him. The only way he knew it was her was the giant sun hat that she was wearing was the same one he’d picked on her about winning at the last Egg Festival and she’d decorated it with a simple red ribbon band. Which matched the red polka dots in the white dress that hit her mid thigh. And the red sandals that were at the end of very long legs (she’d kept the multicolor nails). And the red lips that were grinning at him almost mischievously when his eyes snapped back up to her face.   
  
He was pretty sure the red in his cheeks was matching as well but he couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about that.   
  
She raised an eyebrow at him as he walked forward. “Yoba, woman, how many heart attacks have you caused wearing that?” _...where had THAT come from_ , some far less smooth part of his mind thought.   
  
“I don’t know, can I include you in my count?” she asked.   
  
“Absolutely.” And he quickly segwayed into something far less likely to get him tongue tied. “Any word on if they’re going to call it early?” he asked, nodding to the growing grey clouds that had shown up mid day and loomed over the ocean the rest of it, moving slowly and sparking now and then with lightning.   
  
“Rumors of it,” she said, turning so she was beside him, her arm brushing against his and almost making him jump. He’d left his hoodie at her house this morning, the heat far too much for it. She didn’t seem to notice, hand going to her hat as the wind picked up a little. “Likely a good idea - supposed to be pretty strong. Made sure everyone was locked down in the coop before I left just in case the rain beats me home.”   
  
He hummed, nodding. A good idea likely - she was always full of them. “You look good,” he said out of nowhere. And stuttered when she raised an eyebrow and smirked at him. “I mean, not that you don’t look good typically. Just different clothes. Not used to seeing you outside of your farmer get up usually…”   
  
“You do make yourself scarce when Jas and I have parties. Afraid we’d paint your nails?” she teased.   
  
“You act like she Jas hasn’t painted them before you moved in and started having parties with her.”   
  
She just grinned, bumping her shoulder against his as she turned towards the spread. “Come on, I’m starving. I skipped lunch to get this pretty so I’m treating myself to seconds of this soup.”   
  
The soup was exactly what one would expect from throwing a bunch of different ingredients into a pot and hoping for the best - interesting to say the least. Luckily, the base had been mostly potatoes and other veggies so the different fishes and additional vegetables didn’t make it too inedible. He sat shoulder to shoulder with her on the sand, Jas and Marnie joining. Several other villagers made their way through, talking and chatting with the farmer and Marnie. At first he mildly awkward about it, even quietly muttering to her that she could go and talk to other people, he was fine. She just looked at him with a baffled expression.

“I’m here with you because I want to be.”  
  
He was stunned into silence by the words, ignoring Marnie’s knowing look. But a slow smile spread across his lips as he sat with her, listening and sometimes talking with whoever happened upon their little group. He leaned back, resting his hands in the sand. A few moments later, she leaned against him, looking straight ahead with a grin. The time passed in an easy flow of conversation and bowls of soup and sweets as the clouds rumbled and rolled on the horizon. It was Marnie who ended up leaving first, removing the sleeping Jas from Shane’s lap.

“I’m going to head back, make sure everything’s locked down,” she said, easily maneuvering Jas in her arms.

“Want me to help?” Shane asked, moving to stand up before she shook her head.   
  
“I’ve got this. You enjoy the festival. Keep an eye on the weather though - looks like it’s going to come in fast when it does.” She winked at him which made him both confused and blush like he was some middle school kid, Liz laughing beside him. He just raised an eyebrow at her, rewarded with nothing more than a smile as she leaned against his arm. The remainder of the festival passed in either conversation or quiet. Shane tried to ignore the warmth of her leaned against him easily before a particularly loud strike and the following thunder echoed too close to the shore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awkward transition to next chapter because Reasons.


	15. Stutter and Hum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reason for awkward transition: Adult Times in chapter. You've been warned.

“We should get going - don’t need to face Harvey’s wrath for being out in the rain again,” Shane muttered as he rose, Liz humming in agreement. He offered her a hand up, which she took and held. He gave her hand a little tug, hurrying them along. Liz gave a little sound of surprise as the wind kicked up a notch, sweeping her hat and dress. She cursed softly as she smoothed them both back down, Shane laughing and hurrying them along.   
  
“This isn’t the way back to your place!” Liz said over the sudden gust of wind.

“You’ve still got my hoodie! I need that back!”   
  
“You’re going to get soaked trying to make it back to Marnie’s!”

“No I won't! I'll beat it!”

Mother Nature apparently had a thing for comedic timing. The heavens opened above them resulting in a startled burst of laughter from both of them. Liz did her best to keep up with sandals on wet stone but slipped more than once against the stones and into Shane, both stumbling before regaining footing and speed. Lightning hit closer this time, a brilliant flash and a sudden explosion silencing their laughter as they dashed for Liz’s farmhouse. The wind whipped and picked up around them but by this point their clothes were plastered against their skin.

It took Liz leaning against the door and Shane pushing on it to close it as the wind slammed into the front of the house. For a moment it was silent aside from the wind beating against the house and the rain on the roof. But Shane and Liz caught each other’s eyes and promptly lost it, dissolving into giggles and belly laughs. Shane leaned forward, forehead resting against the door as he laughed. Liz was snorting and giggling into the front of his soaked shirt. His brain so very slowly but very acutely reminded him of how close she was and how warm she was and, Yoba, that dress on her. She was still chuckling when she looked up, hair plastered to her face, catching him staring at her.

“Shane..?” Her voice was quiet, questioning. And he just looked at her, some distant part of his brain wondering what the rain tasted like on her skin. He leaned forward to find out just that, Liz not moving away at all, leaning into his touch instead.  _ Yoba, this is actually happen- _

The sound of the chicken polka echoing from the pocket where his phone was put a damper on the moment with lightning quickness. He groaned, forehead coming to rest on Liz’s shoulder as she placed a hand against his back with a soft chuckle.

“Could be your aunt, should answer it,” she said, resting her cheek against the side of his head.

“Oh it’s my aunt,” he mumbled. “You and my doc are the only other ones that have the number for it.” He leaned up enough to grab the phone and put it against his ear. “Yes, aunt Marnie, I’m fine.”

“Where’re you at?”   
  
“Liz’s - I left my hoodie here. I was going to grab it and make a dash back to the farm when the storm lets up.”   
  
“A tree’s down between her farm and ours over the usual path. You’d have to go through the town to get home.”    
  
“I can make it back through town…” he mumbled.   
  
“Put Liz on.”   
  
“Marnie..”   
  
“He can stay, Marnie!” Liz said loud enough to be heard over the phone. Shane gave her a mock glare, Liz pausing any protest with a quick peck on his cheek. His brain started a quick reboot as she ducked out from under him and headed towards the bathroom, muttering something about getting dry. His eyes followed her as she walked away, part of him happy that she couldn’t see how hungry his gaze was. Shane’s head slowly came back around, catching the on in the middle of a sentence.   
  
“-ill be okay there until the storm passes. Don’t cause her any trouble,” Marnie lectured. He could almost hear the smile in her voice.

“Marnie, I’m old enough to know how to beha- are you really lecturing me…?” He could hear Liz laughing from the bathroom, poking her head around the corner with the towel on her head as she tried to scrub it dry.

Marnie was quiet for a long enough moment that Shane wondered if the line had gone dead. “Just…I see how happy you are around her. Makes me want to remind you of that…”

He wanted to grumble at her but part of him understood what she was trying to say. Don't screw this up but don't let this get away from you. “I know what you mean. I'll see you tomorrow when the weather lets up - call me if anything happens?”

“Only if something's catastrophic and don't rush home on my account.” Before he could respond Marnie had hung up. He looked at the phone, shaking his head faintly.

“Everything good?” He turned just in time to get a towel tossed at him. Liz chuckled as he peeked out from under the fabric to catch a wicked grin from the woman. She’d shed her shoes, towel around her shoulders as she sat on the couch.   
  
“...everything’s great.”

“Great, hm?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

He just nodded, walking towards where she sat, kneeling in front of her. “So. Staying the night.” She just huffed at him, grabbing the towel and tossing it onto his head, attempting to dry his hair.

“You’ve spent the night before.”

“Before.”

“Before?”

“Before all of…” He motioned inarticulately with his hand. Before they’d admitted anything, before he’d started to get his head on right, before she’d worn that dress, before he’d wondered what her rain soaked skin tasted like. Her hands went still, pushing the towel back. She was biting her lip in thought, looking anywhere but his eyes.   
  
“Before you tried to kiss me back there against the door?” she asked, continuing on before he could answer. “Because, you don’t have to. I mean, if you don’t want to. The moment was broken and I don’t want you to feel obligat-”

The little squeak of surprise that was muffled against his lips was the sweetest noise he’d heard in years. The little moan that followed was a close second. Hands that had been resting on the towel slid down to his cheeks and oh so very tentatively pulled him closer, up towards her. He grinned wickedly against her lips as he moved with her, hands that had been resting innocently on her knees sliding up her thighs, against her cool skin, under the rain soaked fabric of her dress. She leaned back slightly, watching him with curious half lidded eyes. His head tilted in question, one answered with her lips returning to his, nibbling his lower lip teasingly. Yes, more of this, they said.

And oh, he could give her more of this. Hands brushed up her hips, fabric riding up on his arms. They traveled along her hips and met at her center, one resting on her thigh and the other brushing lightly over - lace? Yoba, lace? Had she planned this? He didn’t even care at this point, a little growl against her lips. She chuckled, grinning against his lips before they traveled along his neck.

“Say the word and I’ll back off,” he murmured.

“Then I’ll keep quiet so I don’t say the wrong word,” she teased, nipping the base of his neck. His body leaped to attention, blood thrumming in his veins. His fingertip hitched into the lace, gently tugging them aside enough to run a finger gently along her slit. She answered with a moan, hips moving towards his fingertips almost out of reflex. She was already wet. Wet for  _ him _ .

Yoba, he’d died and gone to heaven.

A surge of purely masculine pride washed through him. He leaned forward, moaning against her skin. His erection throbbed against his shorts, aching. But, for now at least, he was hypnotized by the little noises she was making, the flush of pink spreading across her chest, the glow of her half lidded eyes. Her fingers dug into his hair, lip bitten. The rain and the wind faded to merely background noise, all his senses honed in on her. His finger traced along the lace again until they were between her legs. He watched her as he tugged them down gently, watching her face for any hint of rejection. If anything, she just wiggled, almost impatient at the slow pace he was taking.

Oh, this would be fun.

With a little smirk, he tugged them down, slipping her feet free and tossing them to the other side of the room (they were lace. And red as the polka dots on dress). She laughed, watching him as he slid the fabric of her dress up farther, tugging her hips forward. His lips followed a path from her knee towards her hips. He took his time getting where he wanted - where she wanted if the little noises coming from the back of her throat were any indication. He paused, lips hovering just above her clit, little puff of warm breath against it pulling a whimper from her.

“Is this where you want me?” he asked, glancing up at her. She nodded with a little affirmative noise, fingers tangling tighter in his hair. “...I didn’t hear you?”

“Yes,” she whimpered. “Yoba, yes. Please, Shane.”

He caught her eyes, leaning forward and flicking his tongue over the nub of her clit. She started with a moan. He couldn’t help the grin at her reactions - so sensitive, responsive. For him. His tongue flicked back and forth a few more times before his lips pressed around it, sucking ever so lightly. It’d been years since he’d been in a position like this but it came back to him, feeding off the little noises she made, learning to read what she loved by them. Fingertips slipped between her folds, gently curling against her, slowly until her hips rode forward with a needy moan, pushing harder against him. She gave a little stuttering breath as he redoubled his attentions on her before she gently but insistently tugged him up towards her.

For a moment, part of him briefly thought she was going to kick him out. But her lips were back on his with a moan, hands at his hips and fingers sliding against his skin. Her voice mumbled something against his lips, cheeks burning either from shyness or pleasure or both.

“You really do need to speak up,” he said, letting his forehead rest against hers. Her fingers slid further south and squeezed his shaft through his pants. He couldn't stop the moan if he tried, hips bucking into her touch sharply.

“I want you to feel as good as you’re making me feel,” she said softly. “I want you.”

A spot somewhere just below his lung twisted in a sweet ache at her words, his lips finding her's  again, slower this time, a prayer of thanks in his kiss. “You sure about that?” he asked. Part of him wanted to add more, the little black part of his brain humming in the background about how she couldn’t really want him like this. Not when she was so much...more. But she nodded instantly, her fingers dragging up his neck and tangling in his hair. His own fingers found the zipper on the back of her dress, tugging it down slowly before pulling the fabric over her head. Yoba, her bra matched. He’d been doomed from the start. It joined her panties in a distant pile and she was bare under his gaze.

She just grinned at him as he stared briefly. “You’re very overdressed,” she hummed, her own fingers gently tugging at the hem of his shirt, her eyes questioning. Unable to do anything else, he nodded. Sure he’d worried about his health before - he wasn’t as active as he’d been before and hadn’t been eating as well as he should - but he’d never truly worried that anyone would want to get him naked. He knew he’d put on weight, knew that he didn’t really like the way he looked, naked or not. It was part of the reason he wore the hoodie all the time - camouflage. A nervous breath lodged in his throat as she tugged his shirt over his head, partly dried hair falling over his eyes. He avoided her gaze until Liz gently took his chin and raised it back up, kissing his lips softly with a barely whispered ‘thank you’. He held breath escaped in a puff and a small chuckle as he rested his forehead against her shoulder, helping her remove his shorts and boxers. His erection bobbed in the cool air between them before her fingertips wrapped around it. He gasped, hissing faintly as his hips twitched in time with her movements. There was no way he was going to last long, part of his brain thought distantly.

“Come here,” Liz mumbled, tugging him up onto the couch with her, nestling him between her legs. He leaned forward, placing soft kisses against her chest, along her breasts, trying to distract himself, to enjoy this just a little bit longer. To burn the memory of this into his brain.

“You’re  _ sure _ ?” he asked again because this couldn’t be real. And she just grinned at him, giving him a little kiss.

“I’m sure. I’m clean, I’m on the pill….” she rambled a little. He just snorted lightly, nodding in agreement to what, he didn’t know. That it was the same? He rested the tip of his cock against her wet opening, biting his lip to try to get a handle on this. Liz rocked her hips forward slowly, a gasp escaping both of them as she slipped around him. He rocked forward, meeting her, hips resting against each other. Her hands came up, thumbs tracing circles on his hips as he slowly started moving, savoring the slick slide of his body against hers, getting lost in it. Liz’s fingers tightened slightly, a little needy noise escaping her.

“Shane..please.”

He curled around her, lips kissing the growing blush across her collarbone and chest. Rocking forward, finding a rhythm that left Liz humming under him, he slid forward, burying himself completely with each thrust. His lips found the base of her neck, kissing and nipping there, her movements matching his and picking up speed, begging him to keep up, to stay with her. Her fingertips dug into his ass, pulling him closer still.   
“Liz…”   
  
“Yes,” she hissed, a prayer and a plead. 

His movements became stuttered and desperate as he tried to both hold on and chased that feeling just out of reach. Liz arched up against him with a gasp and a whimper, fingers digging little half moons against his skin as she clenched around him. He moaned, her name a mumbled prayer on his lips as he spilled into her. Panting, the world still spinning, he rolled to the side, pulling Liz against him. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, feel his veins still crackling with excess energy. Quietly, Liz placed a kiss against his chest as he buried his face against her still wet hair. He mumbled against the top of her head, his hands tightening around her.

“Hm?” She looked up at him, eyes bright, face still flushed with pleasure. Her legs tangled with his, pulling him close as she waited.

“Thank you,” he repeated softly. She just smiled - that smile that was always just for him, the one that started in her eyes - as she reached up and kissed his lips slowly. You’re welcome, the kiss said. You’re always welcome. He pulled the blanket off the back of the couch, tucking Liz against his chest and the back of the couch before tucking the blanket around them both. The rain tapped out a soothing pattern against the roof as he watched her fall asleep against him, humming softly until sleep took her.


	16. Dawn

It was both the oddest thing ever and the most natural thing ever, this easing back into an intimate relationship. Part of him was still worried it was all a joke, that she was going to suddenly reveal the fact that she had no interest in him. And, eventually, she’d picked up on it while they were sitting on her porch one evening. It was the end of the day for both of them, Liz leaned back against the front of her house, legs crossed at the ankle over his lap. Her feet were bare, hair curled against her forehead from sweat.

“Penny for your thoughts?” she’d asked, giving him a little smile. Her face was still smudged with dirt where the quick splash of water from the pump hadn’t done as much as she’d thought. Shane just shrugged, looking out at the setting sun.   
  
“Just sometimes think it’s all too good,” he said after a while. “That this is all a joke or I’m going to wake up or something stupid like that.”

“It’s not stupid. You’re allowed to have your doubts. Just promise me you won’t doubt one thing and then you can doubt everything else,” he heard her say. He just gave a shake of his head, mumbling a ‘what’ in response to her statement.  “Never doubt I love you, Shane.”

It took his mind longer than it should have to process that, longer than he’d likely ever admit. He turned, looking at her like she was the most glorious thing ever and possibly the most out of their mind person ever.  
  
“..you love me?” he asked, softly, cautiously.   
  
Liz just looked at him, smile wide on her face, confused tilt to her head. “...of course I love you, you dingus,” she said, bumping his arm with one of her feet. 

“Love love, right? Not just as a friend?” This was important, these clarifications.  
  
“I did have sex with you.”

“Sex doesn't mean love.”

She just gave him a wiry grin. “Love love, right.”

He almost knocked her off the porch as he turned to wrap her up in his arms, her laugh ringing around them both as he peppered her with kisses.

It was that day that got him through the workdays at Joja. Between Pierre and the farm, people were slowly leaving Joja, trying to support the store that had been in the valley for generations. Work was done on the community center, sprucing it up again after more neglect than he could remember being present for.

It was that same thought that made him finally break as well. Morris ranting about increasing conversion sales, making people buy more, scripted questions to ask each person that entered the store in order to encourage the largest sale. He couldn’t do this anymore - he knew these people, lived in this valley for the past few years. Sure, he hadn’t made friends with most of them and was always seen as a bit of a grouch, even on good days. But the thought of having to try to sell someone like his aunt a can of fish or freeze dried peppers turned his gut.

In a moment of clarity, he quietly rose in the middle of the rambling tirade and untied his apron, slipping it over his head. He set it on the counter, heading towards the door.

“And just where do you think you’re going!” Morris screeched at him. “You have another six hours! There are five pallets to unload and stock!”  
  
“I quit, Morris.”

The man stuttered, trying to form an answer as he ran after Shane. “You can’t quit!”  
  
“Think I just did, Morris.”   
  
“No one in this valley will hire you, you worthless drunk! How are you going to take care of your goddaughter?!”   
  
Shane’s steps faltered but he pushed on. “I’ll figure something out,” he said, continuing to walk, ignoring the sounds of Morris screaming insults and threats at him. He’d thought it’d be hard to quit, that he’d feel some giant weight when he left the one reliable source of income he’d had since coming to this town. But he felt lighter than he had in months. In spite of being unsure of what he was going to do, a smile was growing on his lips.

News of his walk out passed fast, Marnie funneling the gossip along the usual channels that the small town had. But he didn’t care. He cared even less that people knew when that particular person was Liz and she found him sitting on the dock, smiling up at the sunset.  
  
“You’re smiling - that’s a good sign,” she said, flopping down next to him and dangling her feet over the dock. The leaves were just on the edge of turning, a few overachievers blowing around in flashes of gold and red.   
  
“...it feels good,” he admitted. “Like some weight lifted. I hated that job. Hated what that store stood for - there hadn’t been one in the valley for years according to Marnie. I… it just doesn’t feel right here.”

Liz nodded, leaning her shoulder against his. “Well, I’ll admit my purpose for coming to hunt you down wasn’t purely for congratulations.” Shane looked over, raising an eyebrow at her. “You remember - what was it… almost a year ago? When you got really sick that one time?”  
  
“...most of it. Why?” Part of him was a little concerned but he tried to hold on to the one thing she’d asked him not to doubt. She loved him, she wouldn’t pull something crazy.   
  
“Remember how I’d offered you a job on the farm?” He nodded in response as she continued. “I know, it was likely a horrible idea back then. I was barely scraping by and part of me was glad you didn’t like me enough to consider it. But..the farm’s doing good. Really good, actually. I’ve saved up enough to get a barn built up and the coop expanded before winter hits hard, enough to get a few cows and start maybe making cheeses and stuff - I’ve been reading up on it. Yes, it’s likely stupid but it was one of the things I first thought of when I came out to the farm. Having cows, making my own cheeses and butters…” She was rambling.   
  
“It’s not stupid,” he said softly, his hand sliding over hers. “You’re allowed to have cheesy dreams.” She snorted at the horrible pun, a bark of laughter escaping her and dissolving into giggles that made his smile grow. She took a calming breath, shaking her head softly as she continued with cheeks pink from laughter.

“What that long speech was trying to say was, well, I’ve got an opening in chicken relations, if you’d like it. The hours are long but the client base is very pleasant. Lunch is provided by the company cafeteria, daily. And the pay is just as good as if not better than your previous employer. Plus, I've got the boss’s ear so you're a shoe in,” she said. “I… I could use the help. And I don’t know anyone more qualified. Come work the farm with me?”

Yoba, this day kept getting better and better in the least sarcastic way possible. With her, not for her. As equals.

“I don’t know… sure you want to work with me?” he asked. Oh, they both knew he was going to say yes. It was obvious from the slight gasp when she’d asked and the warmth she kindled in his chest. “I’m apparently a bit of a slacker.”  
  
“We both know my coop’s cleaner than it’s been in seasons. And the chickens like you better.”   
  
“I am Gertrude’s favorite.” He looked over at her, his face hurting from smiling so much. “You’ve got a deal, Liz.” He extended his hand as if to shake her’s. She took it, laughing softly before he pulled her in close, his free hand sliding to the small of her back as he kissed her soundly, the curve of her lips smiling against his and her fingers against the back of his neck better than a victory drink.


	17. Battle

Becoming a farmer had gone far better than Shane had thought it would. Sure, the first few days were hell - his body was used to work but not that kind of work. And he’d felt it at the end of the day as he wandered home but the feeling of accomplishment - and a long soak - helped more than he thought. 

Liz was easy to work with. She didn’t push him, didn’t give him grief on days when he was a bit more quiet than usual, on days when he just didn’t want to talk. She'd let him do his thing on his own while she did other chores elsewhere, giving him his space. She knew when to pull him out of that pit and when to let him tour there a while, which he was grateful for.

It was stupid of him to get irritated about something so small. After everything was going so damned well. For Yoba’s sake, he was working everyday with the woman he loved and getting paid for it. To start over something so stupid and small. He wasn't even sure why he’d said it to begin with - he could tell she was tired, that the long week had hit her hard. She practically forced him to take days off to spend time with Jas but denied herself the same privileges. She was determined to have this barn up and cows in place before the first flake fell.

“Your kitchen’s a mess,” he'd groused, rinsing his dish off and seeing the dishes from the past two days in there with the pots she'd used to heat up their meals.

“I've been busier than I like. Haven't had a chance to take care of them in the evenings,” she said from the table.

“If you'd just do them after each meal they wouldn't pile up.”

Liz glanced up from the seed catalog she was marking up for the next spring. He could see the bags under her eyes from here. “Are you really lecturing me on keeping places clean? With how you keep your room?” she asked.

He bristled more than he should have at that statement. “That's not the point.”

“That's totally the point. If it bothers you so much, there's dish soap in the cabinet under the sink. Go to town.”

“I'm not your maid.”

“And you're not my mom. So get off my back about it. It's not like you live here.”

He should have stopped right there. He should have apologized and just let it go. It was Friday, they were both tired. He should have dropped it or offered to wash the dishes. But he kept poking.

“If this is how you keep your place I hope I never do live here.” He stopped breathing after saying that. He was pretty sure his heart followed his lungs’ lead. No no no - he hadn't meant that. But she was already looking up at him like she’d been punched.

“Hope you never live here, huh?” He was too stunned to respond so she trudged on without him. “Well, thank you so much for making your opinions so readily known, Shane. How about you take the rest of the day off? Since my home is so distasteful to you, I wouldn't think I'd see you till Monday. Good afternoon.” By the time he’d gathered his wits she’d lowered her eyes back down to the catalog, hand not making notes but looking at it instead of him.

“Liz, that's not how I meant it,” he said softly.

“Good afternoon, Shane,” she said, still not looking up.

“Liz, please just talk to me.”

“Get out of my house. Now.” Her words were a slap and a splash of ice. The tears that hit the catalogue page were a knife in the gut.

“Please…”

“Out. Now.”

She didn’t look up but more tears joined the first, fingers wrapped around the pencil until they were white knuckled. He stood in the spot, stunned for a few moments before turning and shuffling outside, closing the door quieter than his words had echoed. 

He’d screwed up.

He’d screwed up bad.

It was Jas who found him face down in his bed, lights out. She flopped up onto the bed beside him, poking his cheek.

“Why’re you sad?”

“Stupid things.”   
  
“Miss Liz says there’s no such thing as a stupid thing.”

He snorted faintly, looking over at Jas. She was in her chicken pajamas, mismatched socks on her feet. She was fiddling something between her fingers as she talked to him.    
  
“Did you and Miss Liz get in a fight?”   
  
When had she gotten so observant? It was uncanny. He just nodded, pushing himself up so that he was sitting against the wall, feet dangling over the edge of the bed. Jas moved so that she was leaned against his side, snuggled under his arm like a chick under their mother’s wing.   
  
“Are you not going to be friends anymore?”   
  
“No, it was just a little disagreement,” Shane said.

“What ‘bout?”   
  
“Stupid things.”   
  
“But there’s no such thing as stupi-”   
  
“Oh no, trust me, this was stupid,” he said with a grin, looking down at her fingers. “What are you fiddling with there?” It was a little blue spiral shell on a chain, shimmering in the dim light.   
  
“It’s a mermaid necklace,” she said, holding it up. “We found the shell on the beach and Miss Liz put a little hole and loop in it for the chain. She made me promise I wasn’t allowed to use it until I was much much older.”

“...what?” Shane said, looking down at her. “Use it?”   
  
“Mhm! Her grandpa told her a story about it. It’s a necklace people give other people to show them that they love them. A long long time ago, there was a mermaid and she was beautiful and sweet. She washed up on shore in a storm and a farmer took care of her and bandaged her up. She stayed in the pond on the farmer’s farm until she was better. And the farmer and the mermaid fell in love. But the mermaid couldn’t stay because the pond was small and there weren’t enough fish. Even though the farmer brought her fish every day, between taking care of his farm and making sure the mermaid was safe and well fed, he was exhusted. So, one night when it rained very heavy, the mermaid’s pond flooded and the stream towards the ocean was deep enough for her to swim away. She was so sad that she did it but she knew that it would be too hard for the farmer to take care of her and the farm because she couldn't help with the crops or the animals. And she couldn’t make the farmer’s life hard. And so she watched him from the docks, and watched him get sadder and sadder.”

She paused for a breath and Shane became suddenly aware of how wrapped up in the story he was as she continued.

“One day, a powerful wizard was talking to the mermaid and told her that if she truly loved the farmer and if the farmer truly loved him back, then the necklace he gave her would let her walk on land as a human and live with the farmer as well as swim the seas as a mermaid when she wanted to. And the next night that the farmer was walking on the beach, the mermaid walked out of the water as a human. And although they didn’t live happily ever after, they lived together and they were happy for as long as anyone could remember.”

“...that’s a very good story,” Shane said softly.

Jas nodded, spinning the shell. “Mhm! She said I wasn’t allowed to give it to anyone I loved like the mermaid loved the farmer for a long long time. That I had to be sure. But, maybe you could give it to Miss Liz since you made her mad,” she suggested, holding the chain out towards Shane. “It’s pretty and it doesn’t die like flowers.”

Shane looked at the necklace like his goddaughter was offering him a live scorpion. “..you really want me to give that to her?”

Jas just smiled widely and nodded, swinging it back and forth. “It’s very pretty. You can say I gave it to you to give to her if that’s better?” He sighed, carefully accepting the shell necklace. It was warm in his palm and heavier than it looked, like it was full of something. Jas squealed and clapped her hands, making Shane jump in surprise. His hand wrapped around the shell to keep from dropping it. “You can give it to her and that’ll make it all better!”

Shane shook his head, looking at the shell as he ruffled Jas’s hair. “If you say so, chickadee.”

And maybe it would. After all, he couldn’t make it any worse.


	18. Walrus

Shane didn’t go back till Monday morning. He needed to think til then, to figure out what he was going to say to apologize. He’d done a little more research on the necklace Jas had said to give her - turned out it was all accurate according to Marnie, who just looked at him with a smile. And he wondered if he wanted to use it for the purpose intended by the story - to ask her hand with it, to ask her to spend the rest of her life with him.

Yoba he’d been up all night and into the morning thinking, staring at the necklace and spinning it in his fingers. It wasn’t a natural shell, that much was for certain. It caught any light in the room and seemed to almost glow. It was heavy for its size, which was half the size of his pinkie. He spun it on its chain, noticing now that there was the barest bit of light fighting its way through the window. Dawn was lighting the sky in meager grey streaks.

May as well get up and moving, get an early start.

He grabbed his hoodie by habit, shrugging the familiar weight across his shoulders as he quietly exited the house. A few of the early waking hens clucked softly at him as he passed through the yard and towards the path that connected Marnie’s farm to Liz’s. If anything, he’d clean the coop to think, to get his head on straight and figure out a way to apologize. There wasn’t any anger left in him - there hadn’t been since shortly after he’d left. Just a weighty pit.

Any plans of thinking were dashed as soon as he approached the farm.

Liz was already awake and hard at work and he was reminded again, so simply, why he loved her. Her dark hair was pulled back, having grown long enough to braid away from her face since she’d moved in a few years ago. A bright red handkerchief was knotted over it to keep her bangs back (still hadn’t caught up with the rest of her hair). Her arms were tanned and freckled along the tops from hours outside, her cheeks dusted with the same spattering of freckles as well (he knew for a fact that her shoulders, bare and against her sheets, also had those same freckles. He’d counted each one with a touch of his lips). Her overalls were spotted with mud and her boots were likely a different color under the same mud. Her sleeves were already rolled up to her elbows.

She turned, those eyes pinning him as she caught him staring like a kid on the playground. She was unreadable, her chin tilting upwards as she went back to work on repairing a fence.

The coop could wait.

He strode towards her, eyes not leaving her as he moved. She didn’t turn, didn’t give any indication that she even noticed his arrival on the farm. Just kept working, spinning a wire back into place and trimming the ends. He knelt beside her, watching her hands move. They were speckled with dirt, the nail polish that Jas had applied a week or so ago just a spot of color here or there on her nails.

“...I did a stupid thing.”

“No such thing as a stupid thing,” she replied, her voice tired, like she hadn’t gotten sleep last night either.

“No, trust me. This was a stupid thing. Likely my stupidest thing.” He sighed. “I was an ass. I really was. And to argue over something that small, something that I could have easily helped fix but didn’t… it was a stupid thing.”

“Takes two people to argue,” she said softly. “It wasn’t your stupid thing alone. It doesn’t change that I still love you, even when we’re co-owning something stupid.”

He gave a little chuckle, chancing a glance up at her. “Jas told me a story,” he said. “About a mermaid and a farmer.” Her hands stopped as she looked over at him. “How the farmer kept working and working, trying to take care of the mermaid and their farm. And how the mermaid couldn’t let that happen any more. I’m no glorious mermaid - Yoba, I’m more of some kind of walrus,” he mumbled, motioning briefly to the scruff and just himself in general. “But… I can’t let you keep running yourself into the ground. You care about everyone else, about Jas and Marnie and me. And I care about you just as much. I love you, Liz. So damn much it hurts sometimes. And I have for a while now, probably, even if I can’t put my finger on when. You didn’t run when I needed help. You’re the one that made me get help, that told me to take care of myself first. And now, taking care of me means taking care of you, too. If you’d let me, I’d like to stay here, with you, til we’re old and gray. Not just as a co-worker but as more.” He’d pulled the necklace out of his pocket, holding it towards her tentatively, palm up. It sparked and shone in the early morning light even more so than it had in his room.

She was looking at him, mouth open. She kept trying to say something, he could tell, by the opening and closing of her mouth. He couldn’t help it.

“You look like a fish.”

Her mouth snapped shut and a wide, brilliant smile spread across her face as she punched him in the shoulder for the comment. “Ass,” she mumbled, not meaning it.

“I will even do the dishes. So long as you promise me one thing.”

“Oh? And what one thing is that?”

“Doubt anything you want, but never doubt that I love you with everything in me and always will,” he said. “Liz, will you stay with me til we’re old and gray? Would you do this walrus the honor of being his farmer? Would you marry me?”

Liz just nodded, the tears that had gathered in her eyes finally falling. She hid a laugh behind her hand, scrubbing the happy tears from her cheek. “The answer has always and will always be yes,” she said, smile lighting up her face.  
  
Grinning so much it hurt his face, Shane reached over and fastened the necklace around her neck. He managed to tuck it under the collar of her work shirt so it didn't catch anything before he was knocked over in a flurry of laughter, Liz’s arms wrapping around his neck. He couldn't help but join her, the soft sound of chickens clucking in the distance and the singular joy of his now future wife’s laughter now surely the sweetest sound he has ever heard.


	19. Blue

They’d tried to keep it quiet. Neither one of them were the kind to draw attention to themselves. But Jas gave them away, practically vibrating when she realized that Shane had given the necklace to Liz. Marnie had been in earshot and had joined in the excitement, grabbing Shane in a hug that made his spine crack.

And the news traveled from there.

Soon, any idea of having a quiet wedding was gone, dashed by the well meaning wishes and intentions of the rest of the valley. Jas, of course, was the flower girl. Clint had insisted on making their rings free of charge with ore Liz had found in the caves her first winter in the valley. The newly refurbished and redecorated community center would serve as reception hall. Apparently an arch was being brought out of storage from Yoba knew where for them to say vows under.

“Pretty soon they’re just going to pick out a dress for me and throw me at the altar,” Liz joked, dangling her feet in the cool lake water. They’d finished early, letting the last of the crops go. They’d harvested the last of the fruits - winter was approaching.

“Don’t like the extra help?” he asked, glancing over. The thin chain of the necklace peeked over sweater she’d put on against the cold. She shook her head after a moment.   
  
“I don’t mind it. Surprised a little by it but I don’t mind it. Just… I don’t know. Feel like I should be doing more,” she said. “I mean, all I have to do, essentially, is show up on time with my hair and makeup done and wearing a pretty dress.”   
  
“Which you still haven’t bothered to get.”   
  
“And it’s a week out, I know...I’ll kidnap Jas tomorrow and we’ll go into town. I can meet up with my mom and borrow an extra set of eyes. I don’t need anything fancy or custom made.”   
  
“You mean you aren’t going to get a giant, poofy, crystal encrusted pretty pretty princess dress?” Shane teased, hand going over his heart in mock shock. Liz elbowed him.    
  
“No. Yoba, no. You’ll consider yourself lucky if I manage a veil or something,” she said with a wicked grin.

And, Yoba, did she manage more than a veil (or something).

He’d known he was in trouble when Jas refused to give up information about the dress. Not that he’d asked. At all. Only a few times. But she’d just smiled sweetly and said he’d have to wait. No amount of sweet chickadees or promises of sweets would budge her. He was half proud half frustrated. It was going to be a long week. He’d been shoo’d away the morning of the big event, superstition about not seeing the bride in her dress and all. Liz and Shane had both protested that she wasn’t even in her dress - mostly just in little curlers and with half her nails painted. Liz had rolled her eyes, leaning out the doorway to give him a searing kiss and a mumbled ‘see you soon, husband’ that kept him warm until he was nervously fidgeting at the front of the aisle, waiting. And he was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t feel the subtle shift in the atmosphere, the change of music, didn’t realize what was happening until he turned and -

\- Yoba, she was beautiful. 

She hadn’t found a veil but her hair was a wave of soft curls with a wreath of late fall flowers woven into it, matching the boutonniere on his jacket - mums, baby’s breath, yellow roses. Sunflowers were in the bouquet she held in front of her sheepishly. Her dress was simple and strapless, lace overlaying the skirt. The mermaid pendant was the only jewelry she wore, a flash of blue against her skin. Their eyes caught and the smile she gave him almost undid him then and there. The same smile she’d been slowly undoing him with since she moved in the town over two years ago. But now he knew what it meant, could read the subtitles in it, how that smile could mean ‘I can’t believe you did that’ and ‘I love you, you dingus’.

Jas walked out before her, taking her role as flower girl very seriously before coming to stand by Shane’s side. But he couldn’t take his eyes off Liz and she was returning the favor, that serene smile on her face as she stood before him. She passed off her bouquet to Jas before taking his hands. And he couldn’t tell anyone a word that Lewis had said, losing himself in the curve of her lip and the raise of her eyebrow. It was pure luck that he was able to repeat the words Lewis asked of him, slipping the simple silver band over her finger before she returned the favor to him.

He did damned sure hear the bit about pronouncing them husband and wife and he could kiss his bride. He could hear the hoots and whistles over the surprised giggles of Liz as he grabbed her and picked her up for a kiss. But he couldn’t find a reason to care at all when she was laughing, arms around his neck, pressed against him.

There was no walking back out, well wishes descending on them almost immediately. But she kept that smile up, beaming like the sun. And the hand on his back anchored him there, the same way he hoped his hand on her waist anchored her. And they smiled, and laughed, hugging people that said they’d known it all along, people that had said they would’ve never imagined the two of them would have ended up together but were happy for them all the same. The party slowly bled over into the community center, food and laughter and slow dancing taking up the rest of the evening and into the morning. 

It was almost dawn before the pair walked back to her farm, Liz’s shoes dangling from her fingertips as she hummed softly. Shane contented himself with brushing his thumb back and forth over her bare shoulder, his tie loose and jacket unbuttoned.    
  
“So when do we have to be up?” he said, turning to place a kiss into her hair as they walked. She bumped her hip lightly against him in answer.   
  
“Whenever we want - your aunt’s wedding gift to us is coming over and checking on everyone in the morning and making sure they’re all back in their stables and coops in the evening,” she said. “And no, she will not come checking on us.”

“Nothing to do all day, whatever will you do with yourself?” he teased as they walked up the stairs. Liz stopped at the top stair, just a bare inch or two taller than him. Her arms rested around his neck, a little grin pulling at the side of her lips. Yoba, how’d he get this lucky?   
  
“Well, with myself, I don’t know,” she said with a little hum, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “But I have plenty to do tomorrow.”   
  
“Oh really?” he said, playing along as he leaned in so that his forehead rested against her.   
  
“Well, could always do you,” she said, a hint of a blush coming to her cheeks even after all this time. “That is of course if you wan-”   
  
She didn’t get to finish the words, anything she was going to say lost into a laugh that was his alone to treasure. Shane kissed her soundly, picking her up bridal style and heading towards the door. She did him the favor of opening it because he hadn’t thought that far ahead.   
  
“I think I could learn to like that.”


	20. Epilogue : Silver

Life, as it has a habit of doing, spun on before them. Sometimes orderly, like a weaving loom’s straight rows. Sometimes like a cat chasing a ball of yarn across the room, under the couch, and around the leg of a chair. Shane hadn’t had any real expectations of married life - most of his reference either long dead parents or friends or television shows. But he fell into it easily, a pattern coming from their days similar to like it was before. They’d wake with the dawn - Liz usually before him, pressing a kiss to his temple and luring him out to the kitchen with the smell of coffee. They would start the sprinklers on the crops while one checked the animals, the other walking fences and buildings to make sure everything was in order. Tasks would be done until lunch, Liz slowly getting the hang of cheese and butter making, smiling like a maniac when her first soft goat cheese came out just like she’d imagined it. They’d stop for a quick lunch, sometimes nothing more than Liz shoving a sandwich at him or him shoving one at her. And they’d work until the chickens started making their way back towards the coop. And they’d talk quietly, about everything, about nothing. Sometimes she’d play music while she cooked and he’d just press himself against her back and sway softly while she made dinner, singing a soft song to herself. Or to him, he never knew.

Sure, winters and late fall and festivals held their own special schedules, but the schedule of the day settled something in him. He’d thought it would be bickering or barbs like he’d seen some couples exchange. Sure, they’d have moments when they’d snap at each other and stalk off, but they were rare and usually resolved within the day with finding each other and apologizing with a kiss or an embrace, soft explanations for their behavior mumbled into sweaty hair. When he’d asked Liz why she didn’t get more irritated at him on bad days or days when they were both crabby for no real good reasons, she’d just shake her head and manage a tired smile.

“There’s no reason to,” she said. “I know you’re trying. You know I’m trying. And I catch sight of you when you’re not looking at me and I remember, Yoba, how lucky am I to be hitched to my best friend?”

Which just resulted in him turning a spectacular pink, stuttering his words and her wrapping her arms around his neck with little laughing kisses.

Jas plowed full into being a teenager, reminding him so much of her father when they’d been young. She was determined in her beliefs but willing to change them when information was presented. And whip smart. She’d spend days at Liz’s table, hiding out from everyone and working on reports and homework while they were outside. She liked the quiet and that it was somewhere she knew people would let her be and get her job done. For all of her princess tendencies, she’d fallen in love with the farm life. She’d done studies on feed and color and consistency for fun, raising and documenting her own little flock of chickens. 

The way her face had been nothing but smiles as she ran up the path between Marnie’s farm and theirs when she’d gotten her acceptance letter, a full scholarship with all the trimmings of dorm and allowance for books and food. And Shane had just grabbed her up, spinning her around in a hug in spite of the ache from planting, laughing with her until Liz found them both and learned what had happened. Then there was more laughing, days called early and cakes baked in celebration.

That had been six months ago and winter had swept in. It wasn’t quite cold enough to snow but the weather man had been saying it was coming tonight. And he was sitting on the porch, cup of warm cider in his hand while Liz talked to her mom on the phone just inside. It was a little while longer before she came out, tossing a blanket over his shoulders before ducking under it and against his side with a content hum that warmed him more than the cider.

“Quiet day,” she said. “You alright?”

He nodded. He still had days where the shadows got a little more foothold than he wanted and Liz did her best to let him have his space and pull himself out, waiting til evening to gently talk about it.

“Just heavy thoughts,” he replied, resting his head against the top of hers. Once dark chocolate hair was scattered with the occasional gray and silver. She didn’t mind them, just smiling softly and pointing out that he was getting the same ones. “Jas all grown up, farm tucked away for the winter. It’s going to be quiet around here.”

She nodded in agreement. “Quiet’s not bad.”

“No, it’s not,” he said. “Just for the first time since before I met you, I’m starting to feel like I’m okay with the quiet. I know Jas is doing well in her classes - she called about coming home for holiday. I know Marnie’s doing well and Lewis asked my permission to ask to marry her after all these years - still weird…” Liz chuckled in agreement. “Things have fallen into place so...quietly. So right. And part of me is afraid that other shoe is going to come out of nowhere and drop, crushing it all.”

“And if it does?” she asked, turning her head to look up at him. He glanced down at her, the first flakes of the coming winter dusting her hair and eyelashes.

“We’ll do what we always do. We’ll figure it out.”

“I think I could learn to like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we reach the end. Thank you each and every one for the comments, the kinds words. Although I may not have responded I read everyone and likely blushed about it. I hope you enjoyed it and I look forward to writing more Stardew in the future. :)


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